Homecomings: Masaki
by Will Pii
Summary: Edition 2. Following the defeat of the dark goddess on Earth, the victors search for solace in a world forever changed. This tale follows the residents of the Masaki household, both old and new, in the aftermath of this event.
1. Prologue: A Family in Flux

Prologue – A Family in Flux

The world changed on the twelfth of September, 1998. Already, rumors of weapons and war in the Middle East had risen tensions across the world, but these all were silenced by the descent of a global darkness.

At 2343 GMT, a black mass arrived in orbit over Earth, specifically Manhattan Island. No one noticed its silent approach against the emptiness of the void, until the Hubble Space Telescope and other space-born cameras noted a "dark spot" against Mars an hour before. In that time, scientists across the world scrambled to assess this threat. However, despite their concerted efforts, the "dark anomaly" refused to be analyzed. It absorbed all incoming wavelengths of light and emitted none of its own. Only in the fact that it blocked starlight, and was growing in size, could they know it even existed.

Shortly after the anomaly's arrival over Manhattan, observatories turned their telescopes to the sky and witnessed a visual display directly from the cinema. A small armada of star-ships attacked the darkness with rays of emerald light, each far superior to the sluggish and out-dated shuttles from Florida. Two of them were identical designs with pronounced prows, sleek and clearly metallic. Another was saucer-shaped, surprisingly similar to those from old pulp fiction. The fourth was smaller and more streamlined than the other three with far lighter weaponry. Two were crystalline with fierce spines and sharp angles. The final pair, oddly enough, seemed wooden, even to the most powerful of lenses.

The anomaly retaliated angrily in bursts of crimson at each of the vessels. The sortie ended abruptly when a blast of pure white shot from the surface of Earth. Blinded, the observers lost track of the action and the vessels. From all walks of life, the human race turned to the sky to see a nova of brilliance tearing into the threat.

Alas, the light died, and the darkness remained to slowly envelop the sky. Panic and fear swept the planet just as the sun, moon, and stars were swept aside by this shadow. Emergency services were inundated with the terrified calls. Some fled to their beliefs, asking if this was the end of times. Governments demanded answers which could not be found. The black shell sparked red lightning at the world below, vicious like the hand of an angry god.

Then, a shining star emerged from the blackness above Manhattan. Observers watched the shell around Earth hemorrhage and disintegrate, falling away to reveal the true sky beyond. Cheers rose from around the world with each piece that burned in the atmosphere. The chaos soon calmed itself, save for one nagging question that rang across the airwaves, "What was it?"

The scientists carried through a sleepless night fruitlessly trying to answer this question, but there was no data to be had. Only those bursts of light emitted any known energy that could be detected. Philosophers and priests renewed their old debates, calling it a "natural occurrence" or a "divine warning". In truth, neither could be fully aware of the portents of this incident. The leaders of the world asked each other and their advisers, "Is it over?"

Within a day, their answer came. One of the wooden ships appeared over the streets of Manhattan, searchlights coasting over the cityscape. Soon, the saucer, the streamlined ship, and a crystalline craft joined it, and emerald light flew once again briefly. Yet, an unseen force thrust the saucer and the wooden vessel each into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. The superstructure of both buildings was immediately compromised, and the added weight of the extraterrestrial craft only aided the inevitable outcome, the collapse of the towers.

People screamed and ran hopelessly as the falling concrete and debris consumed the streets and buildings below. As dust choked the city, blasts of combat pounded the financial district. Those able fled, escaping the apparent war being waged downtown. Emergency workers valiantly helped evacuate the survivors, even as the sounds of battle suddenly ended. Witnesses reported seeing the same crimson light as the anomaly the previous night and a gorgeous azure fighting back. Some even claimed to have seen two figures at the heart of the disaster before they ran for their lives.

New York City's population emptied itself over the next several hours, federal agents in black suits claiming the danger far from finished. For a day, the refugees waited outside their city, seeing the bursts of red and blue, hearing the echoing sounds of conflict. Buildings toppled and collapsed. Asphalt was ripped from its foundation. The very ground shuddered, seemingly about to be torn asunder.

The world's attention turned to Manhattan, waiting to see the outcome. The United States military quickly mobilized, but was ordered to hold position on the shores opposite the island. The soldiers, though eager to remove this danger from their shores, took pause at the devastative power before them. Most had not seen destruction like this in their careers, let alone in places so familiar.

Then, one last shockwave rippled through the soil, shaking some people from their feet. A dead silence followed. The orders were given, and the soldiers advanced into the city. What they found shook several of them. Much of downtown Manhattan had been leveled. Lacerated foundations littered the once great cityscape, little left to tell the tale of what actually happened.

But, what remained was shocking enough. Jutting out of the remains of the twin towers were the saucer-shaped and wooden star-ships. The saucer was horribly crushed and twisted by the concrete and steel compressing around it while the wooden vessel only carried dents and scars from the debris. Many looked in awe at the latter craft, confused by both its design and materials.

After securing the city, emergency workers were allowed to enter and begin rescue operations. Unfortunately, after so much time, the casualties were enormous, and sorrow quickly turned to anger. Eyes turned next to the leaders of the world, demanding answers for this horrible tragedy. "What happened?" "What are these ships?" "Where do they come from?"

One particular organization from the United States came forward. To several world leaders, they explained that the anomaly was a great energy distortion, classified "non-normal variety of occurrence" or "NVO". From across the galaxy, this object had flown toward Earth, ripping across the domains of numerous civilizations.

Indeed, life existed off of Earth, and representatives of a few were the crews that tried time and again to stop the distortion. The two sleek ships were patrol vessels of the Galaxy Police (GP), a peace-keeping force for the Galactic Union (GU). The GU itself was a representative entity for several member worlds, many affected by the distortion's trajectory.

The GP had officers that patrolled Earth's solar system, the Sol System, but it was still considered remote and of little importance until this event. These two resident officers, Makibi Kiyone and Kuramitsu Mihoshi, joined the effort to stop the distortion with their ship, _Yagami_. Also, the GP had a direct liaison officer, Matsu Mitsuki, with the American agency. She and her vessel, _Hayato_, joined Officers Makibi and Kuramitsu, but she was unfortunately killed in the conflict.

The sleek fighter came from Pentinon, a GU member world known for maintaining a strong planetary militia apart from the GP. Its pilot was a young bounty hunter named William Pii.

The saucer found in the tower wreckage was a remnant of a terrestrial visitation some thirty years ago, spurring this American organization's founding. It had been purposely retrofitted to combat this distortion and be piloted by "Earthlings" or "Terrans", specifically two agents from America.

The two wooden craft originated from the Jurai Empire, an ancient civilization which has harnessed an organic technology through their flora. The Jurai themselves have a particular interest in this NVO energy type as it is detrimental to their devices. They have also developed weaponry to combat this kind of threat. Further, the two crystalline vessels were from the world Ryua within the Jurai Empire, known for its gemstone and lattice technology, as well as its problems with piracy.

The "tree-ship" that crashed into the World Trade Center was _Ryu-Oh_, the personal yacht of a Juraian noble, Jurai Ayeka. Lady Ayeka, one-time crown princess of the Jurai royal family, had volunteered to help with the effort to stop the distortion along with royal knights Juraiko Azaka and Juraiko Kamidake.

As the agency explained, the distortion was thought destroyed when it disintegrated in the atmosphere, but Lady Ayeka intercepted a remnant in downtown Manhattan. This piece reacted violently and caused her _Ryu-Oh_ and the saucer to crash. The following damage was caused by successive attempts to render this last section of the distortion inert.

This story was repeated to the General Assembly of the United Nations, not only by agents of the American organization, but also by Officer Makibi herself. The Terran representatives were also given audience by Emperor Jurai Azusa II, who related his formal apologies for this most unfortunate "first contact" with Earth.

Though, as these initial interspecies talks began, Mihoshi glanced to the floor of the assembly hall. Her blue eyes rejected portions of this story, as necessary an evil as they were. She remembered clearly watching her colleague, her academy classmate and friend, Mitsuki, die before her. She clearly saw the face of Mitsuki's killer, and the black energies she could control.

The murderess was beautiful, milky smooth skin and an elegant demeanor as any royal lineage could ever produce. Her auburn hair spiked into a single pony-tail than fanned near her ankles. Her low-cut gown complemented her haunting visage. The red and black colors of the dress seemed to flame around her, blending into the shadows of that night, 13 September. Her sleeves ended in gloves of regal violet, taloned at their fingertips. A golden medallion rested on her forehead, extending four streamers back over her scalp.

But, it is the killer's eyes that Mihoshi remembered the most. She nervously fidgets with a strand of her own blond hair, recalling the bloody crimson irises and calm azure corneas. Mihoshi had heard the Terran expression "eyes are the windows to the soul" several times, but this gaze was a window to somewhere else.

Then, all eyes centered on her. She looked up from her thoughts to see Kiyone standing at the General Assembly podium. The teal-tressed officer wore a dress uniform very well. It suited her serious and sensible nature perfectly, and her many duties had earned her the lieutenant's bars on her shoulder. Her blue eyes spoke of a pride and self-confidence that Mihoshi often shared, in her own way.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Kiyone said, "my best friend and former partner, Kuramitsu Mihoshi."

Mihoshi smiled and waved to the audience of dignitaries. She stood and smoothed her formal dress, very fetching paired with her brown skin. However, eyes widened the moment she brushed her blond hair away from her elfin ears. Several dignitaries close to her leaned closer, looking for some makeup or latex. Mihoshi blushed at the attention while Kiyone just grinned to herself, humored.

"For the past three years, she and I have resided here on Earth and patrolled the vicinity around your solar system."

Mihoshi advanced to the podium as her friend stepped aside for her.

"As she can tell you, we both came to enjoy living on Earth, which is part of the reason we helped in the effort against the distortion."

Together, the duo stood before the assembled Terrans as the questions came at them. Mihoshi answered each question in her sweet way, contrasting the very matter-of-fact statements by her former partner.

Deep behind her own blue gaze, Kiyone remembered the killer just as well. She remembered the talons around her left shoulder, and the stunned look on Mitsuki's pale face. However, the lie she recited today was the better route.

_Better for Sasami and Ayeka_, she thought, _as well as the others._

X X X

While the shape of the world was changing in New York, many observed from a distance across all forms of media: television, radio, the internet, newsprint. Japan's Okayama Prefecture was no different. Even at a local architectural office, most of the staff clamored around the television set in the lounge or had browser windows open on their workstations.

Masaki Nobuyuki was one of the few exceptions. The forty-six year old widower carefully drew his pencil along the drafting board, the precise lines gradually forming the floor plan of a house. His eyes narrowed as he leaned back and considered the design before him. After placing his pencil behind his ear, his fingers knitted together and cracked, releasing some of the tension he had gathered.

The architect placed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on the plan. He had always wanted to bring his art to life. In high school, he would steal off to a nearby hillside to find some inspiration. Of course, what the boy did not know was that a beautiful young lady sneaked after him.

Masaki Achika was her name, not that he ever had the fortitude to ask her himself. They were classmates in high school, trading blushing glances at each other as they passed one another. She was kind and sweet, and strong-minded, certainly her father's daughter. Nobuyuki had been interested in her for some time, and her coy waves definitely spoke of her own interest.

The raven-haired beauty also liked to admire his sketches. Several times, she had made a suggestion that brightened the décor of his original concept. Almost since the beginning, she supported his efforts to achieve his dreams, his partner and eventual wife.

Nobuyuki smiled distantly to himself, remembering her young and strong. He looked at the floor plan again.

_What would she say_? he thought.

… _it would let more light in and really brighten things up._

Her words lit up in his mind as he looked at the drafting board. Taking the pencil, he carefully erased a portion of the eastern wall, adding in a window. Knowing his angles, the sunlight would enter in the morning, filling the den with its rays. A family could eat their morning's breakfast warmed by a new day.

The architect smiled to himself, thanking his beloved with a quick, silent prayer. Achika always did have a sense of simple elegance about her.

Yet, looking at the window there on the page, a chill crept along his back.

"Where do I know this," he asked himself.

He idly tapped the page, trying to jog his memory. This addition was familiar, very familiar, as were Achika's words. A tickle in the back of his mind bothered him, an image just out of reach.

A knock at his door broke Nobuyuki from his thoughts. He spun around to meet his secretary, Reiko. In her late-twenties, she was a comely young woman and had worked for "Mr. Masaki" for several years now. Usually cheerful, the lady had become one of his friends at the office, swapping jokes and what not.

But, her cheery face seemed far more worried today.

"Mr. Masaki?"

Nobuyuki shook the weird feeling away as he answered, "Yes, Reiko?"

"Have you heard? The news, I mean?"

She motioned back toward the lounge where the other staffers were glued to the television, listening to the cleanup of New York. Nobuyuki caught a brief glimpse of the screen as some people milled away back toward their desks. There, he saw the torn concrete and asphalt, much he remembered it from two weeks ago.

He nodded, "Yeah, it's kinda crazy to think about."

Unfortunately, Nobuyuki was a horrible liar, and Reiko knew it. One of mankind's greatest questions had been answered very violently in New York, and most people were shocked or taken aback. Mr. Masaki was calm and collected, no denial or anger. He was already at acceptance.

"'Crazy' is a word for it," she said with a raised brow. "How's Tenchi taking all this?"

The architect thought of his son, Tenchi. For a nineteen-year-old, the young man had already made a name for himself, much like his grandfather, Achika's father. Ironically enough, the world may never know of what Tenchi and his friends did on Manhattan Island a fortnight past.

"He's coping pretty well." Nobuyuki grinned to himself. "I mean, he always liked those scifi movies about visitors from space. He really liked that show with the boy who met the cute alien girls…"

Reiko folded her arms and sighed. "But, this isn't anime. It's real life, Mr. Masaki! There are real aliens on Earth!"

Glancing at the television one more time, he commented, "They seem nice enough. That Makibi Kiyone seems pretty level-headed. I'm not so sure about her friend though…"

"That's not the point."

Then, Nobuyuki's eyes widen when he notices the clock in the corner of the television screen, reading "15:01". He spun around and grabbed his coat.

"I'm going to miss the bus!"

Confused, Reiko looked at her watch. "What? It's the middle of the afternoon."

As he slipped into his coat, the architect explained, "I have a house guest moving in today, and I need to get there to help." Wryly, he added, "I'll probably have to work late tomorrow."

When he slid past Reiko, she grabbed his shoulder, catching his attention again.

"Mr. Masaki," she said with a slight tremble to her hand, "it's alright to be scared, you know? Everything's different now."

Nobuyuki smiled warmly and patted her hand. "Not really. I'm still an architect. You're still my secretary. Aliens in New York don't change that." He slipped from her grasp. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

The widower waved as he rushed down the hall, leaving Reiko to wonder, _How can he be so calm about this?_

Luckily for Nobuyuki, the bus was ten minutes behind schedule. As he burst from the front doors of his firm's building, he could see the vehicle arriving at the bench enclosure across the street. With a quick dash and a swipe of his pass, he was aboard and on his way home.

The middle-aged man sat back in his seat and caught his breath. _Now, the long ride home_, he thought. Ever since he married into the Masaki family, he had complained about the long commute. Achika's family were keepers of a Shinto shrine in the nearby mountains and had always lived within walking distance of the shrine. Her father, Masaki Katsuhito, was the current priest. He had also married into the Masaki family back before World War II, and lost his wife when Achika was young.

Katsuhito had often said that he and Nobuyuki were a lot a like. He had welcomed Nobuyuki into the family fairly genially, after the usual paternal severity. Even after Achika died, the architect still thought of Katsuhito as a second father. For several years, the house he had designed and built for Achika only held his son, his father-in-law, and himself. That was when the two men probably came to know one another the best as they raised Tenchi.

Nobuyuki did see some of himself in his son, but honestly, he saw a more of Achika and Katsuhito in the boy. When Tenchi was old enough, his grandfather started to teach him the sword. His father thought it would be a good structure and discipline for him. He was always a good student and kept out of trouble. His father only really worried about his shyness with girls.

However, that particular problem solved itself sometime in April 1995. The secret that Nobuyuki kept from Reiko was that he had known about extraterrestrial life for over three years now. Then, Detective First Class Kuramitsu Mihoshi was chasing the Class A1 space pirate Ryua Ryoko through the Sol system. In their exchange, the two crashed their ships into the mountains near the Masaki Shrine, where Tenchi was walking home.

From that moment forward, a breath of life flowed into the Masaki household. Soon afterward, Princess Jurai Ayeka arrived, following Mihoshi's distress beacon. Her sister Sasami came next, looking for her sibling. The exiled genius scientist Hakubi Washu was awoken from within the Masaki Shrine. Lastly, Detective Makibi Kiyone investigated Mihoshi's disappearance, and the two were assigned to the Sol system as resident officers by the GP.

For about three months, these six young women brought a craziness to the home that was nothing short of hilarious. Fiery Ryoko and proper Ayeka would bicker over Tenchi's affections, sometimes destroying parts of the yard with their innate powers. Cute little Sasami would play peacemaker between the two, as well as cook some dishes that were far better than any restaurant. Brilliant and manic Washu inevitably would invent a new miraculous device that, once one of the other girls got their hands on it, would spur some new wacky adventure in time and space. Dutiful Kiyone and bubble-headed Mihoshi would visit often from their apartment in town, eventually needing to rush off to handle some emergency elsewhere in the solar system.

Nobuyuki was shocked a little at first, but he soon accepted the girls' presence. Of course, he too had been alone since Achika's death, and having six pretty girls around the house was hardly unpleasant. Admittedly, he had become a bit lecherous, but all of the six shrugged off his advances. In retrospect, this was for the best. Soon enough, everyone seemed like a family, if a bit dysfunctional now and then.

But, that summer, the situation changed. A Juraian battleship arrived under orders to arrest Ayeka and Sasami on counts of treason against the Jurai crown. The throne had been vacant while Ayeka was being courted for marriage, thus seating a new emperor. However, while the princesses were on "holiday" on Earth, a man claiming to be "Jurai Yosho" took the throne for himself and branded them, and anyone connected to them, as criminals.

Three more months saw the Masaki household dodging the Galaxy Police and the Juraian navy to cross the galaxy and reach Planet Jurai itself. Almost from the start, Katsuhito knew the Yosho on the throne was a fake, and after crossing into Jurai's domain, he revealed his reason. Masaki Katushito was the true Jurai Yosho, self-exiled after a duel with his best friend, another Juraian noble named Jurai Kagato. To prove it, the old and wise Shinto priest channeled Jurai's power to resurrect two legendary knights from Jurai's first royal court, Juraiko Azaka and Juraiko Kamidake.

Nobuyuki was dumbfounded. His father-in-law, who helped raise his son and keep him sane after his wife's death, was an alien prince of untold power. Of course, that meant Achika was a princess, and Tenchi a prince. This seemed overwhelming at first, to both Nobuyuki and Tenchi, but Katsuhito's wit brushed the matter aside. "You mean I should have told you I was from outer space?" he had asked with a humored grin on his face. Prince or not, he was the same man as he was before this mess had started.

Soon enough, the architect could laugh about it himself, at least until he saw Kagato in person. It was a brief moment. Both Katsuhito and Ryoko were on the ground, beaten. Even Azaka and Kamidake, as strong and skilled as they were, fell easily. Victorious, Kagato took Ayeka, and with her, all the good humor anyone had about this situation.

Tenchi became a man then. He stood to challenge the tyrant, flanked by the knights and escorted by the lady pirate herself. He rescued the princess and saved the day, just like in all those old bedtime stories.

Nobuyuki was proud of his son, the hero. If nothing else, he knew that he helped raise this young man who had just saved an entire galactic empire from ruin. Tenchi was even asked by Ayeka herself to stay on Jurai and become king. He turned it down, just like Katsuhito did years ago. Royal blood or not, Tenchi was still just a normal young man at heart, and he went back home.

For a while, the Masaki house was boring again. Katsuhito, the great warrior prince of Jurai, went back to being a humble priest of a Shinto shrine. Tenchi returned to his studies, now having to catch up after all the time in space. Nobuyuki also resumed his job. The journey through space was a fun adventure, but like all things, it ended. Real life picked up where they had left it.

But, as people say, the carnival comes back in you wait. Ryoko returned first, seemingly reborn after her daring assault on Jurai. Ayeka forsook succession to the throne to pursue Tenchi to Earth, Sasami in tow. Washu, who had been reinstated to the Universal Science Academy (SA), was kicked out again for weapon development, just like before. Kiyone and Mihoshi both lost their promotions after an embarrassing fiasco involving a misfiled piece of evidence in a major case. The family was reunited once again.

The bus bounced, stirring Nobuyuki from his partial slumber. Yawning, the architect stretched and looked out the window at the passing trees. He knew this route well enough that it now put him to sleep. He took a quick glance at the few other people on the bus with him.

The Masaki estate was near the end of the route, which has helped keep the girls' residence there hidden. Of course, Kiyone and Mihoshi lived in town so they had to interact with people regularly. Luckily, they looked pretty much like Terrans. However, it was usually Tenchi or Nobuyuki who went to town for the others. Sometimes, Ayeka or Sasami would tag along, but never Ryoko or Washu. Ayeka's hair was a dark enough violet that she could pass for a Terran, and Sasami's cute expression always made people think she was a little cos-player.

Soon enough, the bus came to a stop near a long, stone stairway ascending the mountain overhead. Nobuyuki stepped off the bus, thanking the driver with a tip before he drove off. Looking up the path, he thought, _Somethings never change, do they?_

Achika grew up ascending this staircase day after day, as did Tenchi. Nobuyuki never really understood the reasoning as to why shrines are inevitably hard to reach. Katsuhito would always describe it as "purifying the soul" and "finding meaning in the search". The architect found them tedious for a daily commute.

Still, they did give him time to think. As he went up the stairs, he thought about the last three years since the coup d'etat on Jurai. Something happened in late April 1996. Tenchi was injured pretty badly and had a limp for about a year. Nobuyuki asked the girls, but they stayed quiet about it. Ayeka and Washu usually kept secrets, which is not that surprising. Ryoko, as Ayeka has mentioned off and on, had been convicted of fraud, but Sasami and Mihoshi also had nothing to say.

Kiyone did give at least a partial answer. "Washu had some trouble with an invention of hers. We all tried to help, but Tenchi…" He could still see the teal-tressed detective glance aside. "He got too close. Washu says he'll be just fine, and I trust her opinion on that." That hardly stopped Nobuyuki from worrying or wondering.

_What could have hurt Tenchi that badly, considering he defeated a powerful alien dictator?_

A chill rushed through Nobuyuki's spine, giving him pause. A vision appeared in his mind, a white porcelain mask. It had three obsidian eyes and was surrounded by black fire, almost alive as it writhed.

His heart pounded, his breath short. He rested a hand on a tree as he consciously breathed deeply, trying to calm down. He knew that mask, but the more he thought about the image, the more it slipped away from his reach. As he calmed himself down, Nobuyuki thought about that mask and the black fire around it.

"_Non-normal variety of occurrence" … NVO …_

That was what Washu had called it. Two summers ago, Tenchi and the girls went to Manhattan for the first time. There was an incident caused by a metal woman, Mecha-Nerti, who was powered by NVO type energy. Tenchi, Ryoko, and Ayeka took her down, but Ayeka and Sasami were both injured in the process. Luckily, they kept it pretty quiet, unlike later.

Then again, this past March, Tenchi and Katsuhito went with Ayeka and Sasami to Jurai for a reunion the royal family has every so often. Ryoko was their chauffeur, her warrants finally canceled after her good deeds with the coup and the first Manhattan incident. Nobuyuki heard later that a man named Liaens, an old enemy of Jurai, returned with a weapon manufactured from this NVO energy. He had waited until most of the royal family was in one place so he could strike. Again, Tenchi and the others took him down.

Then came two weeks ago. A massive distortion of NVO energy had ripped through Jurai's border with the GU, heading straight for Earth. Two agents from New York came and requested help from Washu, as well as anyone else who would offer it. Naturally, Tenchi and the girls stepped forward. Earth was their home now, and they were willing to protect it. For four days, they all planned to stop the distortion, but even then, it still enveloped Earth.

Nobuyuki remembered looking up at the black skies, watching the crimson lightning, just as many others did that day, 12 September 1998. Then, as a moment ago, he saw a vision of the white mask, heard Achika's voice demanding that it stop.

_What are you?_ he asked his thoughts. Silence answered.

The widower straightened himself, a sigh relieving the remaining tension from the sudden vision. He had seen a mask like that one, but it was different. The visage did indeed look like white porcelain, but it had two elegantly decorated eyes, very feminine.

The eyes behind the mask also burned a deep crimson and azure, framed by scorched locks of hair. According to what everyone has said, the woman who wore the mask was the real cause of the distortion, behind possibly even Kagato, Mecha-Nerti, and Liaens as well.

Nobuyuki first saw it when Washu enabled a monitor to watch the battle waged in the streets of Manhattan. There, Tenchi, Ryoko, and Ayeka fought alongside two others and eventually won against this masked woman, Tokimi, who seemed absolutely made of raw power.

However, her facade was not the one drifting around in Nobuyuki's mind. He could not place where he had seen the three-eyed mask, but he did know well what he felt recalling it, fear.

The architect pushed that feeling aside and continued up the stairs, soon reaching the top. With the autumn leaves already turning, his home stood at the edge of the small lake on the property. At one time, the central tree of _Ryu-Oh_ was rooted in the center of the lake, thanks to a skirmish between Ryoko and Ayeka shortly after their arrival. However, now, it was gone, one of many changes since the events in Manhattan.

As he approached the house, he grinned up toward the red roof and the window of the upstairs bedroom, Tenchi's. It was an excellent design decision, allowing so much light inside and brightening the whole room.

He paused.

"… it would let more light in and really brighten things up," Achika had said to him.

"… It was _this_ window," he whispered to himself.

Nobuyuki could now see himself and Achika on that hillside nearby their high school. She had pointed to the roof and suggested the window. She even had suggested making the roof red, and…

"Listen, Nobuyuki. If you ever build this house…" she had said.

A sharp and angry woman's voice tore Nobuyuki from his realization.

"You're late."

Before him stood the cloaked huntress Jurai Nagi. Even beneath her black cowl, her crimson eyes seemed to glow, feline in shape and quite predatory when she was displeased. She rested a hand on her hip under her cape, partially revealing her saffron rapier and energy whip, two weapons she had a great deal of skill in wielding.

Nobuyuki scratched the back of his head nervously, not unlike his son. "Uh… Sorry. I lost track of time at the office."

Nagi pulled the cowl away from her purple spikes of hair, held away from her face by a hair-band. Her ears were pointed, hidden some by her hairstyle. She was a lovely woman, not unlike the others who had come to live here. Although, she usually marred that beauty with a callous scowl and her intimidating demeanor. There was also that black claw-shaped mark that crossed her right cheek, but from what Nobuyuki had heard, she had had it since birth.

The hair-band itself was of particular note as well. It seemed constructed of smooth vines and branches, all meeting in a violet crest, not unlike Ayeka's tiara or Tenchi's sword. However, it also had a scarlet gem, spherical in shape, embedded in a socket on the opposite side from the crest.

"Ken-Ohki already teleported my things to the third floor," she said coldly, "seeing as it was the only floor with a vacant room."

Nobuyuki rested his hand on his neck, a wry expression on his face. "Alright. That makes things easier. I can show you the room then."

"Good," she replied as she spun away. "Next time, try not to be an hour late."

While she walked toward the house, Nobuyuki's eyes widened as he looked to his watch. Indeed, his timepiece now read "5:30pm".

"Wha…? Five-thirty? But, I left the office right after three…!"

Usually, the bus ride from town to the closest bus stop was a solid ninety minutes. Nobuyuki did get off the bus at the right stop. There were a good many stairs, but on average, he could climb them in a few minutes at a steady walk.

_How could it have taken an hour to go up the stairs? I didn't stop that long…_ he thought.

He sighed and followed Nagi to the house, setting the question aside until after she was settled. He opened the door and allowed her to enter first. She scoffed at the gesture.

As they scaled the stairs to the third floor, Nobuyuki asked, "Where is Ken-Ohki? I didn't see him with you."

"He's with Ryo-Ohki. I tend not to keep tabs on him when they're together."

Nobuyuki grimaced. "Oh, I see."

They soon arrived on the third floor, where several nondescript metallic boxes await in the hallway. The widower had seen some of these designs when he was in space, though he did not see a woman using such spartan luggage.

_Then again, she isn't any ordinary woman, either_, he thought.

"What about Tenchi, Ryoko, and Sasami? Aren't they around?"

Nagi's lip curled at Ryoko's name. "Ryoko is likely flirting with your son." She hefted a box into her arms. "No doubt, that's why he's not here either."

Nobuyuki also lifted a couple boxes. "And Sasami?"

Knowingly, her eyes met his. "Her sister just left her. Do you think she's worrying about someone else's baggage right now?"

He glanced to the floor. "… I suppose you're right."

The architect motioned to a nearby door, and the two began moving the boxes inside. The work progressed in silence, just as Nagi preferred. She had enough on her mind as it was.

Most knew her simply as "Nagi", the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, the lone wolf who never failed to eliminate her target. Although, there was one she never did finish, Ryua Ryoko. That vendetta had been deeply personal, for, as very few knew, the two shared a blood relation, their mother.

With her cowl drawn back, Nobuyuki could see the likeness between the two half-sisters. They had the same basic structure, though Nagi was more lean and athletic than the more full and voluptuous Ryoko. Their eyes were also similar, acute and predatory. Their ears were pointed in a very similar way.

Nobuyuki has not heard the whole story, but he did know that Nagi's father was Juraian. Having seen how Ayeka's life had been dictated by the royal house, he could only imagine the grief a half-breed like Nagi would have endured. Even though her hair was only a few shades lighter than Ayeka's and her eyes a shade or two darker, the traits she shared with her mother probably made her an outcast.

Officially, with Ryoko's warrants canceled, Nagi had no claim on her life anymore. Also, after the reunion incident, the two had a tenuous understanding and tolerated one another. The two even fought together alongside Tenchi and Ayeka against Tokimi.

After a few minutes of labor, Nobuyuki rested the last parcel in Nagi's room and wiped some perspiration from his brow. He cast an eye to the huntress, who gazed out the window toward the lake.

"Looks like that's it, Nagi. Is there anything else I can help with?"

Not looking toward him, she answered, "No."

He sighed and shook his head. "Well, I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

He turned to leave the room, but her voice caught his ear at the door.

"… Thanks…"

The widower glanced back and grinned before leaving her to her own devices.

X X X

Again and again, the same three scenes played on the monitor.

In the first, a black orb of flame hovered close to Earth surrounded by eight vessels of various types. From the planet below, a mighty ray of white pierced through successive layers of the obsidian blaze, wisps rippling away from the impact. However, the beam splashed off a barrier near the core of the sphere, masked by the brilliant light itself.

The second found a single woman floating over a heavily damaged Manhattan Island. She wore a fiery gown of scarlet and onyx, its material caressing her beautiful body. Green, leaf-like markings crossed her cheeks and neck, plunging down across her shoulders and beneath her clothing. A crown of four streamers passed over her spiked tail of fallow hair, attached to a medallion centered upon her forehead. Her eyes burned a piercing azure and crimson as she glanced aside, a single brow raised at the incoming event. Her hand rose, garbed in a violet glove with her fingers tipped with sharp talons. Here, a crack in reality emerged and widened, shining a pure and powerful white. Within a moment's time, a pulse of spiraling black and white slammed itself into this shield, splitting the pulse into two beams. Soon afterward, the shield shook, oscillating between existing and not.

The third and final depicted the same woman, wounded but no less grand. Her gown was replaced by a similarly colored bodysuit and scarlet bracers, cracked from recent combat. Her talons were jagged and broken, stressed from use. Each laceration of her skin and tatter of her clothing blended into the swirling flames around her. Her hair was scorched and the streamer crown torn, haphazardly framing a porcelain mask with intricately detailed eyes.

In one broken glove, she held a sword hilt composed of blackened and twisted branches of a great tree. From this, a dark blade glowed with a ruby edge, ionizing the very air around it. In her other palm, she carried a crystalline broadsword, sharp and angular with a red, spherical gem embedded in its crest. Yet, from the hilt, arcs of pure ivory current carved ashen grooves into her hand as she struggled to restrain the weapon. Around her, fifteen cracks in the fabric of existence opened, though eight flickered and closed back upon themselves.

Repeatedly, these three scenes were replayed before a pair of emerald, analytic eyes. Feline in shape, they consumed each quality and quantity, focusing primarily on these fissures in reality. Behind this piercing gaze resided an intellect who, more often than not, had described herself as "the greatest scientific genius in the universe". In truth, most of the galaxy could only agree with her.

Dr. Hakubi Washu folded her arms over her underdeveloped chest. Though her physical age resembled a child of at most twelve years, she had once been the top researcher for the Universal Science Academy for a couple decades. However, most knew her best as the "legendary mad scientist" for her exile over seven-hundred years ago due to weapon development. Encased in an α-L model prison unit, she drifted through empty space for a time before the crystalline cell found sanctuary on Earth.

Around a.D. 1295, the nation of Japan was in the Einin era and immediately assumed this fallen star to be an ill omen. As such, those in the region built a shrine around the crash point, becoming the Masaki shrine, to seal away this perceived evil.

For seven-hundred years, Washu remained in a temporal stasis while her mind continued to function. During this time, she concocted numerous inventions and proved a plethora of theorems that would easily dwarf her competitors in that span of time. The solitude facilitated her research far more than her peers could have realized, removing her from any and all external distraction. However, there were internal ones, memories and emotions she would much rather ignore. Her work usually helped set these aside, but it was difficult when she could not move. Though she was very brilliant and could develop plenty of ideas in her head, it was the work of her hands, the actual physical act of building, that gave her the most relief and enjoyment.

While the genius was considering a new method of automorphic induction, her capsule was shattered by the fight between two women, Ryua Ryoko and Jurai Ayeka. Freed, and annoyed, she gave chase in an orb of light generated by her own native power, and even transformed them into a pair of kappa for a brief time once she regained access to her technology.

But, it was Masaki Tenchi, the boy over whom they were fighting, that stole Washu's attention. Even then, she could tell something was unique about him. Since he was oblivious to any special gifts, the scientist shelved that investigation until later.

The Masaki household on Earth was a perfect isolated location to bury herself in her work again. She linked the door of a hall closet to her personal laboratory, located in a subspace reality she had created early in her tenure with the SA. With her equipment at hand once again, and no students to bother her, all her ideas from the past seven-hundred years were finally written down, and some implemented.

The only real distraction was the other girls that came to live in the house. Tenchi, Katsuhito, and Kiyone were sensible enough to leave Washu to her work. Nobuyuki tended to be more fun to taunt with some of the side effects of her inventions, particularly the subspace spa she installed for the ladies. Sasami had a genuine interest and excitement about her that came naturally from her age, which Washu could appreciate. The bubble-headed Mihoshi reflected much of Sasami's naivety, but as kind as she was, the blond GP officer was more of an irritation and, at times, a detriment. Then, there were Ryoko and Ayeka, and their petty rivalries and scuffles.

When the Jurai arrived charging Ayeka and Sasami with high treason, Washu was as surprised as anyone. Of course, the way the Jurai navy manhandled her and discourteously deposited her back on Earth was an insult. She immediately chose to aid in busting the coup on Jurai, if only for her own pride. Also, challenging, and crippling, Jurai's military network seemed like a task worthy of her talents.

During her professorship at the SA, Dr. Hakubi had done her own extensive research into both the powers of Jurai and Ryua, mostly under a grant from the Jurai Imperial Academy. Being a native of Ryua, she possessed its power innately, like Ryoko did as well. However, unlike the former space pirate, Washu harnessed and focused her energies into constructs like her phantom laptop and its ethereal data storage system. Using herself as a living power battery, she could directly access several of her inventions by thought, such as her dimensional storage unit. Still, much of her hardware was very hands-on, as she liked it.

While she had personally quantified and tested each facet of Ryoan energies, she was also given permission to study Jurai's power, discretely. As such, she knew the "Yosho" who took Jurai in 1995 must have been of noble lineage. Only Jurai's royal family wielded this power natively, and a demonstration of the power is necessary for succession to the throne.

The mystery intrigued her and encouraged her to stay with this dysfunctional family through the coup. Though she would hardly admit it, she grew to think of the Masaki household as her own home. She was pleasantly surprised when Katsuhito revealed himself as Yosho, impressed that he could mask his power and lineage from all her methods and intuition. This also affirmed her initial reaction to Tenchi's potential. When Yosho and Ryoko fell, it was Washu who encouraged the boy that he had the power to defeat his grandfather's nemesis, Kagato. Again, she was pleased to see her insight shown true when he emerged victorious.

In the aftermath, Washu went her own separate way for a few months, publishing her new discoveries and inventions from her exile and time on Earth. This quickly brought her back into the graces of the scientific community, but like the others, she found something missing. In trying to fill that void, she turned again to her old habits, weapon development. Before she could go to prototype, an SA investigator found her schematics and reported to the current chairwoman of the academy, Dr. Magma Airi. Washu was promptly booted out of the academy once again.

Soon enough, she found her way back to Earth, picking up her role as the reclusive scientist in the Masaki home. In time, all of the girls returned, and the house was reunited again.

Then, an unseen threat arrived, one wearing a white porcelain mask similar to the one in the final video clip. Codenamed "K.A.I.N." by the GP, he was a characteristic energy form of NVO type energy and classified a Super-A class threat. In 1896, he went on a rampage across the galaxy, destroying several planets, some perhaps inhabited. Most GP weaponry could not approach his power, which is why Jurai intervened. Emperor Jurai Takeru XXI personally joined the effort, using his own Jurai energy to help contain Kain so he could be imprisoned in the GP subspace network. Unfortunately, the effort cost the ruler his life.

Spring 1996, one hundred years later, saw Kain not only manipulate space-time to escape his subspace prison, but also travel back to autumn 1970. There, he targeted Masaki Achika, Tenchi's mother, when she was a teenager. Luckily, Washu was running some experiments and caught the initial incursion point in Earth's atmosphere. While she had not done much research into NVO energy, temporal physics was one of her areas of expertise. Shielding Tenchi's existence prohibited time from rewriting over the girls, including the scientist herself. This gave her time to send the others into history to stop Kain, as well as find out the details of this coming attack.

Time has a strange way about it. Some have said that history is immutable, but Dr. Hakubi has proven this to be quite false. With Tenchi and the others chasing Kain in 1970, history was in flux, causing instabilities in the reality around Washu's present. Pinning down the exact moment Kain would appear became horribly frustrating while events that have happened constantly realign themselves.

Eventually, the creature did show itself. In preparation, Washu followed the GP's original plan to capture Kain, use Jurai energy in tandem with the subspace network. However, Katsuhito, Tenchi, and Ayeka were far from having the power necessary to do what Takeru XXI did. As usual, she invented a solution, using her previous studies as a base. The Jurai's power has always been intimately tied to the trees of their world so she developed psy-linkage equipment to mimic Jurai's energy with Earth's trees, channeled through the Five Color Fudo temples. While this was not a perfect solution, it was expertly effective.

Actually, it was too effective. In the ensuing battle, the teenage versions of Nobuyuki and Achika were dragged into the subspace pocket along with Kain. Little choice was left save to send Tenchi, Ryoko, and Ayeka to rescue the two while Kiyone used a dimensional cannon to finish the job. Yet, in the struggle, Achika awoke to her innate power, something that allowed her to tap Tenchi's mind and see the future. Thus tainted, Achika's memory, and Nobuyuki's as well, were erased of the time the girls spent mucking in their era. Since then, continuity seemed to have righted itself, events following as history had previously dictated.

Still, a worry haunted Washu since Kain's destruction. Why target a girl who knew nothing of her Juraian lineage? What would be the benefit of murdering her?

Truthfully, the researcher had left probes in the altered present created from Kain's incursion. As she told Tenchi and the girls, the Masaki family ended there with Achika, her father soon dying alone as well. She did not tell them that without their interference, Kagato's coup d'etat succeeded, killing both Ayeka and Sasami. Ryoko eventually was gunned down in a shootout with the GP. Kiyone and Mihoshi vanished during an investigation into corruption at the GP headquarters. Of course, Washu herself merely remained imprisoned in the untended Masaki shrine.

Who benefits? Kagato and his co-conspirators on Jurai and in the GP did. Releasing Kain to alter history was a quick fix to a large failure, and it was not the last. In the two years following Kain's defeat, three other events connected with the NVO type energy occurred: Manhattan Island in July 1997, Jurai's royal family reunion in March 1998, and Manhattan again in September 1998. With each encounter, the picture became clearer. As Katsuhito said, "we've been foiling their efforts."

"… foiling _her_ efforts," Washu said to herself.

She paused the videos and stood from her levitating cushion, her eyes glancing between the woman both with and without her mask.

"Tokimi, Matron of Ryua."

Washu had heard of the "Matron" briefly in her youth centuries ago. While the doctor was of Ryoan lineage, she was not born on Ryua itself and did not have much exposure to its culture. Also, she did not see much use for an archaic myth in her research.

Yet, two weeks ago, this "fictional" being demonstrated her power. As the heart of the NVO distortion, she tore through the border between the Galactic Union and the Jurai Empire, heading to Earth. Tenchi and Ryoko faced her in person within the distortion, Tenchi himself undergoing a miraculous transformation that ripped the construct apart. Over the following two days, Tokimi rained terror and destruction on all parties involved, as well as Manhattan Island. However, she not only wielded NVO type energy, but also something unprecedented in this universe.

"Her Wings of the Light Hawk," Washu said as she glanced to the white ruptures in reality around the images of Tokimi.

Dr. Hakubi had every probe and sensor at her disposal active during each encounter with Tokimi. In all of them, the gauges read ridiculous values from the ambient power being generated and exchanged.

But, the wings did not register. Where they appeared, the meters only read trails of zeros, like they were nothing but void. They refused to be quantified, but their qualities were unmistakable. Each could completely block all ethereal transference: Juraian, Ryoan, NVO, even the electromagnetic spectrum. Usually, they withstood bombardment by physical matter and kinetic energy, but Washu found a way around that. The unstable blend of the antipodal Jurai and NVO could send a wing into a phasing flux that allowed matter to pass through one, but nothing more.

The genius rested her chin on her knuckles. _But,_ she thought, _while the wings did not emit any signs of existence, the fact that they impeded other transfer events proves their existence._

Her arms opened and lowered her fingers before her. Under her fingertips, a translucent keyboard appeared along with its companion monitor. Like a well-practiced dance, Washu's digits entered strings of commands into her phantom terminal, spawning several gauges and data windows hanging in the air around her.

_Four others demonstrated the wings._

In his transformation, Tenchi gained the ability to create three of these Light Hawk Wings. Later, Ryoko also manifested two in the final battle with Tokimi. One developed for the bounty hunter Will Pii, but that situation seemed very unique due to some melding with Nerti Ro's recently realized abilities.

Washu's monitor displayed an image of a beautiful, azure-haired woman. Dressed in the purest white of Jurai's regal finery, a gentle majesty was clear in her rosy gaze. The picture rose from the screen and rotated, showing a holographic depth as it demonstrated the detail of the lady's appearance. Behind her, two long tails of hair cascaded down her back, reaching her heels. On her forehead, two jade discs glowed softly, highlighting her bangs of hair and the features of her face.

"Tsunami, Matron of Jurai, sister of Tokimi," she commented as her lips curled into a grimace. "Or, Jurai Sasami, younger sister of Jurai Ayeka and princess of Jurai?"

Unbeknown to even Ayeka, her younger sister held within her the essence of Jurai's masterful power, Tsunami. During the recent event in Manhattan, she was forced to reveal this fact, aging young Sasami from a ten-year-old girl to a twenty-year-old woman in the span of a few hours. In this form, she detailed much of Jurai and Ryua's prehistory, some of it unknown even to Azaka and Kamidake. She also manifested ten wings, easily dwarfing any power displayed by anyone save Tokimi.

_However_, she added in thought,_ does she still retain that power after…_

A knock came from behind Washu. Annoyed, her eyes rolled as she tapped a few keys on her keyboard. A new window opened above her monitor, showing the corridor outside the physical door into her laboratory.

"Who is it?" she asked, not at all masking the irritation in her voice.

There, an elderly man stood and answered, "I thought I'd check in on you."

Masaki Katsuhito, birth-name "Jurai Yosho", was always rather humble and stoic in how he portrayed himself. Few on Earth would look at his plain gi and hakama and think him more than a simple Shinto priest of a nearly forgotten shrine in the mountains. Off Earth, he was once crown prince of the Jurai Empire, one who threw away his regal responsibilities to hide amongst the distant stars. Only recently were the people of the galaxy reminded of why he left that seat of power.

He had watched his best friend, a cousin, fall into an obsession with his innate power and become twisted by its dominating simplicity. Indeed, power corrupted Jurai Kagato so much that Yosho had to "slay" him. However, as a young man, he could not kill his friend, but left him beaten, to crawl away in defeat. Having seen Kagato's fall, Yosho could not bring himself to sit upon Jurai's throne. Power like that could easily ruin him just like his friend.

Alone, the prince wandered the galaxy, looking for some solace before coming to Earth. There, he found the Japanese culture and their honor, which reminded him a great deal of Jurai's ideals. He threw away the name "Jurai Yosho" and took up "Masaki Katsuhito" through marriage to Masaki Itsuki, a shrine maiden in Okayama. It was this name he hoped to carry to his grave.

Of course, Kagato's reappearance in 1995 ruined this aspiration. After revealing his true identity, he faced his old friend one last time, but his foe had grown more powerful with the "Darkness of the Universe". Only in the following encounters with Tokimi and her emissaries did the meaning of his words become completely clear.

"You've been hiding away for the last few days," Katsuhito said to Washu.

"I'm a little busy right now," she answered. "I have experiments to run and…"

He grinned and lifted a tray. Upon it rested a bowl of noodles and a selection of nigiri and temaki. Flavored steam rose from the broth, nearly masking a few crab legs floating between the pieces of udon.

Washu's eyes widened when her stomach reminded her of the hour. Often, she would lock herself away to work and quickly forget the time.

"Sasami thought you might want some dinner to keep up your strength."

A wry grin crossed the genius's face as she nods. "That's thoughtful of her. I guess I could take a break."

Katsuhito bowed while Washu tapped a couple keys. Behind her, the door's opposite side appeared, allowing him to enter directly into her current research area. All around the old prince, the hum of machines could be heard, though they were distant in the darkly lit chamber. Washu spun toward him as he approached.

"Thanks," she said.

"Not a problem. This is hardly the first time you've forgotten a meal."

She laughed to herself as he offered the tray to her. She sat back on her seat, resting the meal across her lap. While Washu took her chopsticks and started to munch hungrily on the dinner, Katsuhito eyed her data windows.

"How goes your work?"

"Eh, could be better," she replied between bites. "Even with all the readings I took during the battles, I still have no sure way to detect the wings."

The displays were reflected in his spectacles as he scanned through the information. While he was not a scientific scholar, not all of this was foreign to him. His fame had always been his swordsmanship, though he had also been educated in Jurai's history and its power, which he wielded with a decided mastery. Ryoan and NVO energy proved not to be very dissimilar in their nature and behavior.

But, his attention quickly fell on the image of Tsunami.

"Have you detected any sign of Tsunami?"

Washu slurped up a noodle and shook her head. "Not yet. She's just as elusive as Tokimi is."

The prince nodded. "She is the 'Woman of Mystery', after all."

"Sasami does still have that triangular emblem on her forehead, and all members of the Jurai royal family still possess their powers. Thus, I doubt Tsunami was destroyed in that fight with Tokimi."

"That is true."

Washu lowered her chopsticks, a concern in her green eyes.

"How has she been acting?"

Katsuhito met her gaze, a similar worry found in his expression.

"Like a confused teenage girl."

With a sigh, Washu nodded. "That's to be expected. After Tsunami's defeat, she was found in a teenage body. Juraian hormones aren't any different than those of other species."

The old warrior grinned thoughtfully. "I expect not."

"Has she had any memory of her experiences as Tsunami?"

"Not that she's shared. She's been fairly private since her change."

Washu scoffed and munched a piece of temaki. "That's part of being a teenager."

"She also lost the person dearest to her."

The two exchanged a knowing glance. An old ache twinged within Washu's chest, a familiar emotion. She glanced down to her udon noodles, considering Sasami's solitary hands preparing this food before her. Habitually, she pushed that feeling deep into her heart and ignored it.

"I know that," the scientist added plainly. "We all do, but that was Ayeka's decision. And, I can't completely fault her for it either."

"Nor can I," he stoically agreed. "Ayeka's story isn't going to be here on Earth."

Still, a little feeling stirred in Washu's breast.

"Think she'll manage on her own?"

"Sasami or Ayeka?"

"Both."

With a slight grin, Katsuhito replied, "Neither is alone."

"You know what I meant," she huffed.

He took a breath and nodded. "It won't be easy for either of them, which is what we're here for."

Quietly, she accepted this.

The prince then nodded to her noodles with a soft smile.

"You'd better finish, or they'll get cold."

She looked down to the work of Sasami's hands, each bite deliciously woven together as a gift. Underneath her hermit facade, Washu understood and let a solemn smile slip through her lips. She took her chopsticks and resumed her dinner, pacing herself to enjoy the flavors, like she would enjoy her work to come.

X X X

The mountain breezes softly flew through the hair of Masaki Tenchi as he sat on the side of a particular foothill. His brown eyes looked out over the rolling hills that stood before the proud peaks a few miles farther back. His right hand gripped a pencil and set it against the sketchpad resting against his thighs. Glancing down, the young man traced the lines he had seen, each new stroke slowly recreating the landscape presented to him.

As Tenchi went through school, he sometimes wondered what he would do with this life. His grades were decent, but he was hardly a scholar. He had been trained from a young age by his grandfather to wield the sword, but he never wanted to hurt anyone.

It was a question that he pondered as he walked home in April 1995, when he saw a pair of stars fall from the sky. Curious, he investigated and found a beautiful, cyan-haired girl laying amongst some crystalline wreckage, her breath reeking of alcohol.

Tenchi had seen pretty girls before at school, as well as when his father would leave a manga or magazine laying on the table. However, this young woman had a different beauty about her. Her hair was not only a very strange color, but also spiked, reminiscent of a lion's mane. Her figure was full and voluptuous, but still quite strong and fit, considering her clothes left little to the imagination. Her ears also were elfin, pointed much more like a mythical sprite. In all honesty, if not for the falling "stars", Tenchi would have taken her for a gorgeous, drunk cos-player.

Luckily, he was more concerned for her safety and condition than her looks. He rushed to her side and gave her some water to wake her. He noted briefly her slightly lengthened canine teeth as he nudged his cupped hand to her lips. Quickly, she opened her eyes, those golden, feline eyes.

_Contacts_, Tenchi thought to himself.

At least, he thought that until she jumped up, grabbed him, and said she was being chased by a space pirate. His confusion only lasted until a rather large, blue mech-suit stomped out from the bushes and started firing at them. Needless to say, he ran, his wrist tight in this mysterious girl's grasp.

She very quickly said her name was "Ryoko", and this incident was just the start of the excitement that would follow. Though a turn of fate, namely a well-placed soda can, the mech-suit toppled, unable to right itself. Ryoko took the opportunity and kicked it over the edge of a cliff. In need of change of pants, Tenchi simply agreed to escort her back to his home.

There, she "explained" herself to Tenchi, as well as his father and grandfather. Tenchi, naturally, disregarded the story while Nobuyuki was more attentive to her figure. Katsuhito, secretly knowledgeable of the kind of woman she was, simply nodded, letting her story pass, not that he believed a word of it.

Later, the mech-suit returned, chasing Ryoko, and it was the Shinto priest who disabled the machine with a bokken. Forced to reveal herself, the pilot flopped out of the damaged machine, the blond Detective Kuramitsu Mihoshi. Her story was that Ryoko was an infamous space pirate, which the cyan-maned woman completely denied.

But, the wanted poster was something she could not deny. She was "Ryua Ryoko", GP case 80812029, sought for numerous daring robberies and malicious mischief, mostly done solo. Her cover blown, Ryoko dropped her "meek and mild" facade and demonstrated why she was the "devil caller", and why she had yet to be caught. Crimson light gathered at her hands as she levitated, phasing in and out of sight.

Tenchi and Mihoshi ran until she could go no farther. Ryoko hovered over them, ready to strike, but Tenchi grabbed a simple garden hoe and stood against her. Flabbergasted, Ryoko paused. His eyes were set and determined, even against all the power she wielded. As red lightning sparked between her palms, sweat beaded on Tenchi's brow.

Then, she just set her feet on the ground, let the fierce light vanish, and giggled playfully, like it was all a game. Tenchi was dumbfounded.

_What just happened?_ he asked himself.

Shortly afterward, she and Mihoshi became the first female residents at the Masaki house since Achika's death some years ago. In a matter of weeks, that number would sharply increase with the arrival of Ayeka and Sasami. Washu made herself at home once Ayeka and Ryoko shattered her prison. Kiyone was offered a place in the Masaki home, but she was adamant that she, and Mihoshi, should make their own way. Of course, the duo frequently visited and were met with the warmest of hospitality.

Though Nobuyuki swore to the contrary for years, Tenchi was just as shy with women as his father was. However, this did not stymie the romantic interest in Ryoko or Ayeka. The two were polar opposites in many ways, including their attraction toward the young man. Ryoko was always highly aggressive and seductive, trying to tempt him with her body and her wiles at so many opportunities. Ayeka was more passive and demure, wanting him to choose her for her nobility and purity rather than base desire. Naturally, like fire and water, the two clashed at each turn, sometimes with explosive results.

Yet, Ryoko changed. One incident stood out in Tenchi's mind in particular, the affair with the dimension tuner. Washu had created the device to investigate parallel realities, but the girls each saw a chance to rewrite the world to their wants. Overloading the machine, they sent the entire household on a journey through every one of their "perfect" worlds. One by one, Washu systematically broke the ties to each alternate reality, gradually pulling them all back to their original universe.

But, it was the last that caused problems. Ryoko had been the first to tamper with Washu's machine and as such, was intimately tied to the existence of this parallel world. Unlike the others, she had to actively renounce this dream for everyone to go home.

"No" was her initial answer. She had the daring excitement that part of her so craved. Even without her native powers, she enjoyed every moment running from the law and doing whatever she chose, with Tenchi in tow.

What she did not consider was how the others, particularly Tenchi, felt. He wanted to go home, back to his life on Earth. Ryoko could not seem to understand why.

_Didn't he love the excitement?_ she asked herself. _Didn't he love…?_

He was angry, called her "selfish". Truthfully, she was, and she knew it as well as he did. She was just as angry and flew away, determined that she would keep this world that she so desired.

Tenchi stayed with Washu where the dimension tuner was partially phased into this world.

_She was the one being unreasonable_, he thought, but he also felt guilty. Essentially, he was asking her to give up her heart's desire to go back to their reality. _How unreasonable am I?_ he wondered.

Then, Ryoko came back, a smile on her face. She had decided to go back, but Tenchi could see that the smile was forced. Part of her really did not want to do this. He asked her what changed her mind, and she said, "This journey isn't real, and it's time I realized that." As Washu made ready to take them home, Ryoko gently took Tenchi's hand. When he looked over to her, she smiled softly to him. She never said the words, but her heart had changed, matured that night.

In the weeks that followed, Ryoko seemed different, more subdued. She still held fast to her claim on Tenchi's heart, but her scuffles with Ayeka became more verbal and less violent. Though the two never actually acknowledged it, they were friends, apart from their rivalry over Tenchi. Now and then, Tenchi and Ryoko would talk alone, usually ending in an awkward silence.

Not long after the dimension tuner affair, Jurai's navy came for Ayeka and Sasami. Since Ryoko had yet to learn tact, the soldiers quickly recognized her and took her into custody as well. In a daring rescue, Tenchi, Washu, Katsuhito, and Nobuyuki boarded the Juraian battleship and freed the girls, using Ryo-Ohki's mass-shifting capability. Thus, all of them, and later Kiyone and Mihoshi, were branded rebels against the Juraian crown.

In the trek from Earth to Jurai, Ryoko's unique expertise as a pirate became invaluable, but a liability. She knew how to live on the run, which gave them all the funds to pursue the journey and avoid capture. However, her own self-interest periodically drew undue attention to their location.

When Tenchi's Juraian lineage came to light, Ryoko grew distant. She could see a change in him, as well as in Ayeka. In truth, he was overwhelmed with everything he had just learned. Ayeka's insistence that he take the throne hardly helped his already spinning mind. Little did the princess know that Ryoko was listening to the entire exchange. Soon enough, Kagato defeated Katsuhito, and already frustrated and needing an outlet, Ryoko flew into combat alone. With a few waves of his hand, the dark emperor dealt a crippling blow, tossing her from the sky to the ground near the fallen Juraian warrior.

Kagato left with Ayeka in tow, leaving his navy to finish the job for him. Luckily, Tenchi and the others escaped with Nagi's opportune interference. Tenchi stayed by his grandfather's bedside, trying to come to grips with what had just transpired. Self-doubt clouded his mind looking at Katsuhito's motionless face.

_He just took out Grandpa_, he thought. _I don't know anything about any "Jurai power". What can I do?_

Washu snapped at him, reassuring him in her own blunt way that he actually had potential surpassing Katsuhito. Alone with Tenchiken, the sword key from which his name originated, he found how to summon the blue blade, and the courage to face his grandfather's nemesis.

Unbeknown to him, Ryoko was laying in her room, bleeding badly from her wound. Looking at the life ebbing from her side, the shock of the situation faded as she realized what was bound to happen.

_Tenchi's going to fight him now_, she reasoned. _After what that bastard did to the old man, there's no other way. And, if he did this to me…_

She cleaned and bandaged herself as best she could before she went looking for Tenchi. Soon enough, he came through _Yagami_'s corridor, a determined expression on his face.

_No, goddammit_, she thought.

She stepped in front of him and confronted him, pleaded with him to run away with her, far away from all this. He just smiled sadly to himself. Part of him did want to flee. He was not completely sure he could even defeat Kagato.

Frustrated, she even threatened him with her powers.

"I'm a space pirate, and a powerful one," she reminded him. "I could steal you away if I wanted to!"

Yet, her arm shook and wrapped around him, pulling him close against her. He could feel her sobbing against his chest and shoulder. This was not the demand of some vicious criminal. It was a plead for his life, to stay with her.

He pushed her gently away, his eyes apologetic.

"But, I can't forsake Ayeka," he said. "I can't do that." His eyes hardened. "Besides, this is my fight too, now."

He just walked by her. That heart she kept buried beneath layers of attitude and selfishness cracked wide open as she cried his name.

_I've lost him_, she screamed in her head.

Then, he stopped and looked back at her. She dried her eyes, swallowed her sobs, and raised her eyes to meet his.

_If he's going to die_, she decided, _he's not going alone._

She lived on Jurai for part of her life, and she knew the route. Aboard her partner _Ryo-Ohki_, Ryoko escorted Tenchi, Azaka, and Kamidake to Jurai. Alone, she challenged Jurai's planetary defense network while the navy was occupied with _Yagami_ and _Ken-Ohki_. Like a valkyrie, she demolished every blockade in her way, even as turrets and artillery bombarded her ship, and her body. Bulkheads blew, knocking her to the ground, but she refused to remain on the floor.

_He's going to do this_, she swore. _He's going to avenge his grandfather, and me._

Soon enough, she landed at the palace. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and blood starting to stain her clothes. Covering this, she bid her quiet farewells to Tenchi and the knights.

"I hope you know I wasn't planning on helping you rescue that 'other woman'," she defended. "After all, I am a pirate."

Tenchi just smiled at her. He watched her the entire flight and knew she was injured in her exchange with Kagato. Sadly, he just did not realize how badly.

However, Azaka and Kamidake did. They honored her respectfully before joining Tenchi in rushing toward Kagato. Once their backs were turned, she finally collapsed, no longer able to hide the excruciation consuming her. Her last vision before blacking out was Tenchi and the knights, her last word his name. _Ryo-Ohki_ quickly sped away with her mistress aboard, where Ryoko succumbed to her wound, admitting to herself that for all her adventures and freedom, she was lonely.

Tenchi and the knights did overcome Kagato and his twisted followers, the young prince awakening to the power within himself. In this battle, he realized what his grandfather had two generations ago about the power to rule so when Ayeka asked him to assume the throne, he chose to return to Earth.

Just like Ryoko, he could see Ayeka's heart shatter, not that she showed more than a pair of tears. She could barely look at him, nor could she watch him leave. The entire trip home, he guiltily cursed himself for hurting them both.

After the coup d'etat fell, Ayeka and Sasami remained on Jurai, stabilizing their world again. Washu was welcomed back into the SA with all her well-earned accolades. Kiyone and Mihoshi were both promoted for their heroism against the corruption in the GP.

But, no one could find Ryoko, not even Nagi. The infamous lady pirate seemed to completely vanish following her daring raid on the Jurai throne-world.

Tenchi worried about her. He knew she was injured, but was she actually _mortally_ wounded?

_She's probably back to her old tricks_, he reassured himself. _Kiyone and Mihoshi will probably find her robbing a bank or something._

Months passed, and life grew monotonous. Nobuyuki and Katsuhito were able to convince Tenchi's high school principal that they had a "family emergency" to handle. His prolonged absence was excused, and he was allowed to resume school. Still, he missed everyone, the excitement of having all his friends there on Earth.

And, he worried about the one who was missing.

Then, in spring 1996, he was walking home when he heard Ryoko's voice whisper his name. He thought he had finally lost his mind, but in a moment, there she was, standing on a stone before him. She looked just like she did when they first met: strong, proud, and beautiful. The lady pirate embraced him strongly, a long-lost friend come home.

After her, all of the other girls returned to Earth, each resuming their former roles. Since then, Ryoko had stood by Tenchi's side, and Ayeka's as well: Tokyo 1970 against Kain, both Manhattan incidents, and the Jurai royal family reunion of 1998. Still, as close as the three were, a tenuous balance had existed between them, one Tenchi constantly avoided tipping. With a few words from his mouth, one of the two women could be crushed, though the other would be elated.

This scared him. He cared for them both, but as his father warned, he could not keep them at arm's length forever. Eventually, he had to embrace one of them, or lose them both. The choice hung around his heart like a leaden weight as they all struggled through the events of the last three years.

Here, on the foothill, Tenchi raised his eyes to the mountains, comparing them to his sketch. He had started drawing idly in his school notes his last semester, not unlike his father. Soon enough, he had taken to a sketchpad, stealing away into the hills around his home. There, the serene scenery gave him respite from the periodic insanity back at home. Admittedly, this was more of an escape from the tension between Ryoko and Ayeka.

However, while he came to avoid them, his mind always circled back to them. Looking down at today's pencil strokes, the young prince thought about how three words tore away that precious balance.

_No_, he corrected himself. _It was more than just "I love you"… _

A familiar whoosh of air caught his attention, spurring him to glance up at his side. Ryua Ryoko smiled warmly down to him, her cyan mane billowing in the winds. A red Chinese dress hugged her body closely, adding an elegance to her already fierce beauty. A silver bracelet wrapped around her left wrist, the metal molded into the shape of three vines intertwining and blossoming together. In their blooms, a perfectly spherical gem is held aloft, crimson in color.

Tenchi reciprocated her quiet greeting as she crouched next to him, their eyes meeting.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey, yourself," she answered playfully.

Gently, the two leaned together, letting their lips touch briefly. Ryoko glanced down at his sketch, bringing a rise to her brow.

"Wow," she said while her eyes slide to the landscape in the distance. "When'd this start?"

"Yesterday. I came up here to touch it up a bit."

She smirked, her feline eyes narrowed slyly.

"Really? I thought you were avoiding me."

Wryly, Tenchi grimaced and scratched the back of his head.

"Why would you think that, Ryoko?"

One of her arms snaked around his shoulders as she eased herself down to sit with him.

"Oh, probably because I distract you."

Her face neared his again, her breath against his lips.

"I always had a talent for that."

He nodded, his grimace shifting to a smile.

"You still do."

He set his sketchpad aside while one of his arms slipped around her waist.

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

He chuckled, "Not at the moment."

Again, their lips touched, though Ryoko's parted. Shortly, Tenchi mimicked her, deepening the kiss. Gradually, the two embraced closer, their arms wrapping around one another. Then, a soft rumble rose from her chest. The young prince broke the kiss with a wide smile.

"It still amazes me," he said. "You purr just like a cat."

She set her forehead to his, their gazes joining.

"Then, you must be doing something right, my dear artist."

They kissed again briefly before Tenchi's eyes glanced down to the bracelet on her wrist.

"How're you managing with the bracelet?"

She peered at the elegant piece of jewelry, an irritated curl to her lip.

"It works just fine."

The young woman extended her hand, the crimson gem glowing brightly. Over her upturned palm, rays of ruby light coalesced into a sphere, a skill she had demonstrated many times in her life.

"As long as I wear it, I have all the powers I've always had."

Then, she carefully removed the bracelet, and immediately, the scarlet illumination flickered and faded away.

"But, I lose them all when it comes off."

Tenchi furrowed his brows, considering this while Ryoko slipped the item back onto her wrist.

"Didn't Tsunami give back your powers?" Tenchi asked.

She rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "That was the idea. I couldn't really do much after that bitch Tokimi took my old Ryoan energies."

"So, your powers are tied to Jurai now, like me and Grandpa."

"Yeah, supposedly."

He grinned warmly. "Well, I guess it's like I was early on."

He reached into his shirt and produced Tenchiken, the Juraian key carrying his name. Resembling a katana's hilt, the device was composed of smooth branches intricately woven together. The violet guard seemed carved from a pure block of amethyst and nestled snugly into the design.

Thoughtfully, Ryoko eyed the sword hilt, as well as the bracelet on her wrist, while he spoke.

"When I first learned about my Juraian heritage, I didn't know how to do any of what I can do now. What I could do then, I could only do with the sword. It's taken the last couple years to figure it all out."

He set the sword down atop his sketchpad before he rested his hand on her cheek, guiding her gaze back to his. The earthen shade of his eyes met the golden of hers as the grin widened to a smile.

"But, I did with Grandpa, and you."

Her fingers slid up over his, holding his touch to her skin as she pressed her head into the caress.

"I know you will too."

She chuckled and closed her eyes.

"Yeah," she answered, "if you'll help me relearn it all again."

"Of course, I will."

Her eyes blinked open again, diving deeply into Tenchi.

"I love you, Tenchi," she whispered softly to him.

Gently, he drew her lips toward his while his breath warmed her mouth with the reply, "I love you too, Ryoko."

Their lips met, their kiss quickly becoming more passionate. In the distance, the sun descended against the mountains, casting an orange hue over the couple and closing this day in Okayama.


	2. Chapter 1: Living Together

Chapter 1 – Living Together

Millennia ago, a great war raged across the Milky Way Galaxy between two young nations. The victor of that war became the great and renowned Jurai Empire, its mythical power and distinctive tree-ships clashing with the Enemy in many legendary battles. This was the beginning of a dynasty which has lasted from the first king, Jurai Sho I, until the current emperor, Jurai Azusa II. Much of this time has been lost to history, names of the fallen and the immense sacrifices forgotten to the modern era.

However, the defeated will never forget, and they have not forgiven. Before the great war, the planet Jurai had several rivals to its growing influence, but only one truly stood against Jurai. Ryua, still known as the "world of crystals", nurtured a race of proud and passionate people. Physically, the "Ryoans" were seemingly much like any other humanoid, though they were distinguished by their feline features: slit-like pupils, elfin ears, and spiked locks of hair.

But, it was their power that threatened Jurai. Each could summon forth and manipulate a crimson energy, which could be forged into swords as well as used to teleport and incorporeally phase through matter. Unlike Jurai's power, which only flowed through the veins of the royal family, this Ryoan energy could be found in every member of the race.

That red light also gave the people a telepathy to the small, furry denizens of their world. Similar to some blend of Terran cats and rabbits, these "cabbits" had a crystalline nature, able to shift themselves into a gemstone and interact with the gems found throughout the world. This connection allowed the development of crystalline technology, allowing mass-shifting, computational efficiency, and eventually, space travel. The cabbits were trained in the manipulation of their crystalline state, forming starships that took the Ryoan race throughout the galaxy.

Independently, Jurai and Ryua grew until their borders abutted, and like many cultures before and since, they clashed and fell into war. For over a decade, these two mighty nations filled the spiral galaxy with bursts of azure and crimson, emerald and gold, ivory and onyx. At the end, then Commander-General Jurai Sho stood victorious in the halls of the Ryoan Council of Twelve as his foe, Chairwoman Ryua Nori, laid dead at his feet.

Crushed and broken, Ryua surrendered unconditionally, and its holdings were absorbed into what was renamed the "Jurai Empire". However, while the war ended, the fire in the Ryoan people never died. Many rebelled against their Juraian governors, gaining the label "pirate" from their daring raids. In reaction, newly crowned King Sho I gave an edict that has stood to the modern age.

"Strip them of their ruby light."

By Juraian law, Ryoans have since been injected with a solution made from the metal sinium. In its pure form, sinium was toxic alloy that can absorb both Juraian and Ryoan type energies. However, when chemically bonded to flourine, sinium became a salt which was harmless to the body, but retained its energy absorption properties. During the war, both sides used the metal to make shields, armor, and prison bonds while the salt was used on prisoners to keep them captive.

King Sho I's edict repressed Ryua, forcing them into the role of a subject world, rather than a powerful rival nation. Many fled their home-world and took refuge in the stars, gathering together into small clans and guilds. Jurai has since hunted these outlaws, with capture meaning the end of their innate power.

There were exceptions to this law. The Ryoan priesthood for their planetary faith were allowed to keep their innate powers for cultural reasons. The priesthood has remained very closely obedient to the laws of Jurai, walking a careful line between their beliefs and the requirements of the state, lest they too lose their light. This favoritism toward Jurai has made many of the pirates shun the culture and beliefs from their native world, creating a significant divide in Ryua's people.

Millennia later, the GU formed and came to know of the Ryoan pirates and the power they so jealousy maintained. In cooperation with the Jurai Empire, select Ryoans were allowed to keep their powers within the GU's Universal Science Academy to study the energy type. Yet, here too, each researcher was closely watched, lest they stray from their objective. One such Ryoan researcher was famous Dr. Hakubi Washu, who has had her own problems with the law in the past.

But now, Washu's findings were haunting the world of crystals. During the recent events on Earth, the Juraian governors of Ryua were asking questions of the Ryoan priests, unsettling questions. "What do you know of 'NVO' energy?" "Who is this 'Matron' you serve?" "Have you heard of the events on Earth?"

All of these weighed heavily on the brow of High Priest Ryua Murakami. Tied tightly behind his head, his silvered hair appeared like blades spiking from his scalp, much like the icy glare of his blue feline eyes. White robes cascaded down around him, embroidered with artistic reliefs of golden flames and ruby pyres. He rested his folded arms upon the meeting table before him, glancing at those gathered with him.

To his right hand was his son, Cardinal Ryua Shinya. In his mid-thirties, gray had only started to touch his tan hair, framing his cool violet gaze. Dressed in scarlet robes with similar fiery motifs to his father's, the younger man sat, thoughtfully stroking his smoothly shaven chin.

This pair listened carefully to the rhetoric of the remaining man standing in these chambers, Brother Kimpatsu Ryobachi, Shinya's student. His spikes of orange hair danced as this young priest spoke, emphasizing his points with animated gestures of his hands. Though his eyes were several shades lighter than Shinya's, a fire burned within Ryobachi's sight, reflecting the passion of his speech. Simple black robes embraced the Ryoan as he waved his hand aside and continued.

"Jurai knows nothing of what happened here, your Eminence," Ryobachi declared with a confident grin on his face. "They are grasping for a connection between our faith and their 'distortion', one they don't even fully believe."

Shinya closed his eyes in thought. "No, the upper echelon know, or they wouldn't be grasping so close. However, they have suspicion, but no proof."

Ryobachi scoffed. "Let them look! Washu herself found nothing when she was here."

The cardinal's eyes slid over at the young priest. "And, we would like to keep it that way, my student." He turned to Murakami. "I have sent two of my best, your Eminence."

The silver-haired man nodded. "How deep?"

"Full genetic over-scans and persona shields. Even their energy type has been masked to appear Juraian to any of their detection systems."

The high priest's brow raised. "What do you have planned, son?"

"Infiltration, intelligence, and subversion," he recited, though his voice lowered when he added, "as well as retrieval of what is hers."

Though he did not break his stoic facade, pride could be heard in Murakami's words. "Bold, my boy."

Shinya merely bowed his head with a filial respect. "Whatever brings the Lady's favor to our family."

Sagely, the father commented, "The Matron has touched our family twice, once with Ryua Nori, and again with your dear sister Ryoshu. I don't believe we have ever lost her favor."

The cardinal glanced aside, a twist in his belly at the mention of his sister. Ryua Shinya was the elder son, but the second child of Ryua Murakami. The high priest's daughter, his "little firebird", was Ryua Ryoshu, his firstborn, his favorite. Even after her death six years ago, the old patriarch of the family still held the auburn-haired girl close to his heart, despite her transgressions against her family and their traditions.

And, Shinya resented his father and struggled daily not to hate his sister.

"Perhaps not, Father," he answered dutifully.

Ryobachi, however, stood with his arms folded, his brow raised.

"What about her daughters?" the student asked. "We tried to bring that cyan-haired minx back home once, and all we got for our trouble was a scorched altar and a hole in the roof."

"She's always been a wild one," Shinya sighed, "like most young pirates." He glanced to Ryobachi and added, "You would know."

A sneer crossed the student's lip as he retorted, "I might have been raised with the pirates, but I'm hardly one of them." Then, the sneer grew into a twisted grin. "After all, didn't my old man take care of your own pirate problem?"

A slight scowl crept into Shinya's brow, the undertone of his student most disconcerting. However, Murakami simply nodded calmly.

"He certainly did his duty as I asked. I expect no less of his son."

The blue eyes of the high priest cooly met the purple of the young man, who beamed proudly.

"Whatever you command, your Eminence."

Many have regarded Ryua Murakami as an aging figurehead of the priesthood. The public saw his speeches denouncing the violence of the pirates as Juraian propaganda, his calls for tolerance as the mewling of a servant of the emperor. Most people, Ryoan or otherwise, just saw the silver-tressed priest barely clinging to what power he had left.

Yet, a cold fire burned deep in Murakami's eyes, calculating and patient. As the man stood, Ryobachi caught a glimpse of a deep scar just at the edge of the high priest's collar, long since knitted together. The cut was jagged, randomly torn, for what the student could see of it. The words Ryobachi heard now were not mewling, not orchestrated or rehearsed. They were strong, firm, and decisive.

"Your task, Brother Ryobachi, is to study and prepare. The work of Akara Naja is key to the Matron, and I expect you to bring it to us."

Ryobachi bowed respectfully. "Of course, your Eminence, but what of…"

"She will be handled," Murakami interrupted shortly.

A scowl crossed the young man's lowered eyes.

"She, as well as her half-sister, are a concern of the House Ryua," Murakami stated, "not of yours." Icily, he added, "You would do well to remember that, young man."

Ryobachi glared at the floor. He gripped his fist tightly at his side, suppressing his desire to speak out.

_She was mine, old man_, he seethed to himself. _She _is_ mine._

Shinya closed his eyes silently. He had been Ryobachi's mentor for the past six years and had seen the young man grow knowledgeable and powerful, but also impatient. The cardinal had known his student's father, a brave young cleric named Kimpatsu Masaru. He was the man who ended a long standing threat against the priesthood, the unification of the pirate guilds. However, in this great act of patriotism, Masaru left his son without a father. Without paternal guidance, Ryobachi bounced between foster parents until becoming Shinya's pupil seven years ago. Even as a boy, Ryobachi had raw talent with Ryua's power, but his years without a true family had made him selfish, even cruel.

Now, the young priest at least showed restraint on his tongue, thanks to Shinya's influence. His head bowed, he apologized to the high priest.

"I'm sorry, your Eminence. I'll leave it to your house."

Murakami waved Ryobachi aside. "Good."

Yet, the leader's attention then returned to his son. "What of the entity sent to Earth with the chimera, Shinya?"

"The Matron stated that it was severed from Jurai Ayeka and deposited in Sargasso," the cardinal answered. "I've sent Hotsuma with a small force to recover it."

As Murakami opened his lips to speak, the doors to this chamber swung open. All eyes turned to the one standing in the doorway. Murakami and Shinya stood in outrage, though Ryobachi stifled a snicker.

"Leon Tae! What is the meaning of this?" Murakami demanded.

A young man ambled inside, his raven locks of hair flowing behind him like a dark cowl. His gray, feline eyes focused on those of the high priest, fearless and prideful. Bladed armor held firm to his form, colored blood crimson and earthen tones. The shoulder plates in particular shone with a well-maintained polished silver finish.

"I've been waiting, old man," Leon answered as he cracked his neck. "I'm tired of it."

A heavy sigh fell from Shinya's lips. _The "necessary evil"_, Shinya thought to himself.

A scowl twisted Murakami's brow. "Impatient child."

"Child?" Leon scoffed as he motioned back toward the door. "I've bested every priest you've set me against." His lips curled into a smirk. "… And, as fun as it is to cleave through them, it's getting boring."

Ryobachi watched the exchange with interest. He had become close friends with Leon since the latter's arrival on Ryua three years ago. The two would spar often until the dark energies wielded by the black-haired warrior surpassed the priest's. Leon was as fierce as his name, and wickedly meticulous as to how he dissected an opponent's defense.

But, Ryua Murakami was a wall. His blue eyes glared deep into the young man's gaze, his stance firm while the young man rested his hands on a desk between them.

"The Matron gave you your power for a purpose," Murakami scolded, "but all I have seen you do is squander both your potential and the lives of my men. I will have no more of it."

Leon gripped his fists at his side, cracking his knuckles as sparks of obsidian arced over his skin.

"Really?" he grinned. "And, what's an ancient, broken, and forgotten relic like you going to do if I don't? I've got far more power than anyone in this building."

Without even the whoosh of air, Murakami vanished. Immediately, Leon summoned an orb of black fire, which his hand molded into a broadsword of shadows. He thrust to his side, the blade piercing the side of Ryua Murakami.

Ryobachi's eyes widened while Leon laughed, "Dumb old fu…"

Then, the figure standing before him dissolved into the shadows. Dumbfounded, Leon stepped back, as did Ryobachi.

"Wha… what is this?" Leon stuttered.

Murakami's voice boomed off the walls of this small meeting chamber.

"**Just like a child, always seeing with your eyes.**"

A scrape against Leon's armor spun the arrogant fighter around, swiping his black blade through the table. Shinya shook his head, disappointed.

"**Only fighting with your brute strength,**" Murakami added.

Two black broadswords edged against Leon's neck as two figures of Ryua Murakami slid out of the shadows of the office. The eyes of each were dark as pitch, like the markings clawing along the face and neck of each. Leon glanced between the two copies of the high priest while they spoke together.

"**Know your place, Leon Tae. You are a guest in the house of the Matron.**"

At this, the gray-eyed warrior released his sword, letting it vanish. The two Murakamis drifted toward one another before both flickered away and were replaced by the one true high priest of Ryua. His skin and eyes were clear of the black marks, and his blue gaze fell sternly on Leon. His words lacked their previous mighty echo, but carried no less authority.

"You have a mission already, and I suggest you begin your journey."

Irritation and embarrassment were in Leon's face, but so was a touch of humility. He nodded and relented, leaving soon afterward. Speechless, Ryobachi was excused to his own tasks by Shinya while the cardinal and his father continued their meeting uninterrupted by their juniors.

X X X

Autumnal winds blew through the leaves of the trees surrounding the Masaki shrine. Already, the forest's colors were changing from the lively green to the dry red and orange of fall. With the noon sun hanging overhead, flights of birds flew past in a "V"-formation, heading south to avoid the coming freeze.

Yet, within the trees, swipes of a weapon cut through the air. In years past, this sound had been common. From boyhood, Masaki Tenchi had been drilled and trained by his grandfather to wield the swordsmanship of Jurai's royal family. The swings of a bokken, as well as the crack of two bokkens striking, filled the forest as the boy grew into a young man.

In more recent memory, the swing and crack of bokken were replaced with the heated hum of energy blades, both Juraian and Ryoan. During the six months between the reunion incident on Jurai and the advent of the dark goddess on Earth, Tenchi sparred with Ryua Ryoko, each learning from the other. Sparks of red and blue flew from the clash of Tenchiken's blade against Ryoko's scarlet katana, the impact ringing metallic.

Now, the swipe of a bokken has returned to the Masaki estate with a new wielder. Jurai Nagi held the wooden sword before her, her crimson eyes focused and determined. She slid forward, the sword rising over her head and then back down to strike the empty air. Her heel twisted as she swung to the side, striking a second fictional enemy. Crouching, she hooked her other foot behind her, rending another imaginary foe from their footing. Her weapon rose, cleaving through this falling adversary.

Nagi continued through this kata, sweat beading on her brow. Around her body, a white gi flapped at each strike; red hakama snapped with each sweep and kick. Her hairband key held her purple hair away from her face as they shook with each motion in the routine.

As she neared the end, her foot thrust to the side, breaking the rib of an opponent. Her bokken drew close while her foot touched the ground under her. Then, she paused, her breath deep and slow. A scowl etched into her brow as she cursed under her breath.

"Dammit… what follows the kick?"

Frustrated, the huntress sighed hard and punched a nearby tree. However, a voice rose from behind her.

"I don't think the tree deserved that."

Nagi spun toward the voice to find Masaki Katsuhito leaning against another trunk with a jovial grin on his face.

"You've already worked up a sweat without me, I see."

She slipped the bokken into the belts at her waist before bowing respectfully to the master swordsman.

"I do remember some of my father's teachings, Lord Yosho. I thought I could refresh myself."

The great man nodded as he stepped closer to her.

"I'm sure he would be very proud to hear that."

Nagi glanced aside, but the grandfather rested a hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly.

"And, call me 'Grandpa'. Everyone else here does."

Her eyes turned back to him as he added, "I gave up being 'Jurai Yosho' years ago. Besides, I doubt your father ever made you call him anything besides 'Father' or 'Dad'."

Her gaze lowered a bit. Katsuhito had met Nagi's father, Jurai Tensho, after the reunion incident on Jurai. He was a good and noble man, and loved his daughter greatly. However, due to Nagi's maternal lineage, Juraian prejudice and politics had torn the two apart, Nagi only a girl of nine years. Since then, she had struggled and subsisted with her cabbit partner, Ken-Ohki, becoming one of the most successful, and feared, bounty hunters in the galaxy.

One of the reasons for her strength and success was the training she received from her father. As with many men in the Jurai royal family who had only daughters, Tensho taught Nagi the legendary swordsmanship of Jurai. Though she did not finish her training, much of that knowledge stayed with her after their separation and gave her a significant edge over her targets. Also, though she did not admit it openly, practicing the kata was nostalgic, something that reminded her of the home she had lost.

Nagi nodded quietly. "Very well."

Katsuhito walked past Nagi, following a well-tread path in the forest. The huntress went with him, her eyes set on the legendary warrior before her. As a girl, she, like Ayeka, had heard the story of the warrior prince who had abandoned the throne of Jurai decades ago. In those days, she wondered what sort of man he was. Her childhood peers envisioned him as a proud prince, traveling around the galaxy to combat evil. Nagi herself saw him differently, a wanderer searching for challenges to improve his skills, and was a bit surprised when she discovered his identity late during the coup of 1995.

Soon, the two reached a clearing, where many stakes had been planted into the ground. Nearby, a few boulders rose out of the ground, worn smooth by millennia of erosion. Here, Katsuhito sat down and took a few pebbles in hand from atop an adjacent stone. He rolled the small rocks in his palm, glancing up toward the canopy above them. With a slight motion, one pebble flew from his hand into the limbs above, knocking a block of wood free. Attached to the block was a rope, which soon became taut and halted the block's fall over the stakes below.

As this piece of wood swung from side to side, Nagi smirked to herself, recognizing the situation. She stepped toward the pegs, a hand already resting on her bokken.

Katsuhito grinned. "Seems like you know this routine."

"Indeed," she said, her feet levitating from the ground.

"Do not use your Juraian or Ryoan powers," he stipulated.

Confused, she glanced back to him. "Why not, sir? I thought the point of all this was to learn control of the two powers."

The old prince folded his arms and nodded. "It is, but you need a calm mind and disciplined spirit to control your body, let alone master either side of your heritage."

The huntress eyed the ground for a moment in thought. When puberty began her body's natural maturation, a few elementary abilities manifested, primarily flight from her Ryoan side. With time and practice, she did learn to maneuver through the air on par with Ryoko, which made the two excellent opponents. However, without a teacher, she neglected the potential locked within her.

During the reunion incident, stress and desperation saw her awaken to her Juraian lineage. Wounded and locked in combat, and her powers instinctively rose to protect her. The Juraian energy flowed violet through her, shattering the casing around her hairband to reveal the key inside. With this device, she slew her foe, Jezibel Kimitan.

Over Manhattan Island nearly a month ago, the dark goddess attempted to tear away the Ryoan energies dormant within Nagi. Crimson lashes snapped around the huntress, burning through her clothes, ripping at her spirit. However, Nagi's powers were intertwined from her birth and could not be separated in this way, but the contact brought her ruby light to the surface. The red energy flared around her, warring with the already awakened emerald power. The conflict between these opposites tormented her, out of her control.

Nagi never again wanted to feel that pain, that weakness. Katsuhito could see the deliberation in the huntress's eyes. He had stipulated the same for her half-sister seven months ago when Ryoko and Tenchi came to him with a similar request.

_She's impatient_, he thought to himself, _just like her sister was._

"You've changed a great deal in the past three years, Nagi," he explained. "You need to give yourself time to adjust. We should proceed slowly and carefully."

_Time to adjust…?_ Nagi thought.

Three years ago, she was chasing Ryoko around the galaxy, threatening to take her head. At the conclusion of the coup on Jurai, Nagi chose to help in battling Jurai's navy. Six months ago during the reunion, her lineage was exposed and her Jurai power awakened. She and Ryoko came to a tolerance of one another at that time as well, each knowing the truth behind the other. A month ago, her Ryoan power was revealed, and with both energies flaring brightly, the huntress dealt the fatal stroke to the dark goddess, Ryoko at her side.

Nagi's feet touched the ground again as she slowly nodded to Katsuhito.

"Very well, sir."

With that, the purple-haired woman dashed onto the pegs, drawing her bokken to strike the wooden block. The piece of wood swung away while Nagi stepped aside, her feet on a new set of pegs. When the block returned, she struck again, her technique strong and her balance stable.

Katsuhito silently watched her jump between the stakes in the ground, lashing out at the returning block of wood. With each step, her balance and poise on the pegs was nigh perfection. Each strike on the swinging target was exact and potent. Had she been wielding an actual blade, the block would have been cleaved in twain time and again. Certainly, Nagi had innate talent and practiced skill at wielding a sword.

However, the wise teacher narrowed his eyes and noted the tension in her shoulders, in her arms. Indeed, each impact was powerful, but to a fault. She would overcommit, her weight forward in her stance. In his mind's eye, he could see an opponent sidestepping her zealous strike and slicing down upon her arm or neck. Further, the energy she wasted in generating that power in her muscles was tiring her. The perspiration rolling down her brow spoke of that.

"Tell me, Nagi," Katsuhito inquired. "How did your father teach you?"

Distracted, the huntress stumbled a bit, her feet halting atop a pair of wooden stakes near the edge of the practice area. She quickly recovered and batted the target away, a tense glare in her eyes.

"Is that relevant?" she asked before she struck the block again.

"You've taken to this exercise rather well. I was curious what else you know."

Her focus cracked, Nagi's attacks slowed, her mind split between Katsuhito's question and her task of attacking the block.

"We would do this at home." A loud crack sent the target flying away. "But, not on _Hi-Ryu_." Her bokken collided with the false enemy again. "Fleet regulations didn't allow it."

Katsuhito nodded. "They are rather strict aboard naval ships. What did you do aboard _Hi-Ryu_?"

"We would spar." Her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of the wooden sword as she struck again.

The grandfather's brows rose. "Oh? A father-daughter duel?"

"Not always," she answered, the crack of her sword louder.

"I suppose then you sparred the other officers' children."

"Sometimes." She cleaved vertically, sending the block upward into the air.

Katsuhito could see her grip on the bokken and hear the shortness of her words. She was thinking, feeling. Three years ago, Nagi was completely focused on her vendetta against Ryoko that all she saw was her target, all she felt was fury.

_What are you feeling now, Jurai Nagi?_ the old Juraian asked himself.

"Where is 'home'?" he asked her.

"Aiko," she replied with another mighty swipe.

"That's a beautiful city," Katsuhito commented with a smile. "It must have been lovely to grow up there."

Only strikes of the bokken answered him as she continued her exercise in silence. Honestly, he was pushing her, testing her focus. While he was not present when her Ryoan energies were awakened, he has heard from Ryoko and Azaka of the bitter tears and screams when the huntress first faced the dark goddess. Then too, she was pushed, stressed, and tempted by the Matron of Ryua. Nagi had survived far worse emotional distraction than a few mere questions.

But, those encounters not only left her hands burned from wielding a sword of wildly chaotic energy, but also had reopened old wounds in her heart. While her hands were healed by Washu's medical technology, emotions were a totally different matter. Katsuhito could only imagine how Nagi felt when the final strike of her flaring blade of Light and Dark sunk into the chest of her opponent, the body of her own mother.

"… How long has it been since you've been home, Jurai Nagi?"

Her feet halted as she raised the bokken, her left hand behind the blade in a reinforced block. The wooden target smacked against the edge. She took a deep breath, facing away from her teacher. Her weapon lowered at her side while she took a moment to regain her breath.

"… Nine years," she answered.

Over his lifetime, Katsuhito had developed a knack for reading people, not only their weaknesses, but also their state of mind and demeanor. Nagi shared a lot of similar talents and strengths with her half-sister, Ryoko. Both were fast and agile, stubborn and passionate. Both had lived difficult lives to become the women they now are, Ryoko the daughter of a dread Ryoan pirate and Nagi the illegitimate daughter of a Juraian captain.

However, despite their similarities, the sisters were vastly different. While the elder Ryoko was more relaxed and fluid, the younger Nagi was serious and rigid. In the aftermath of the events of Manhattan, Ryoko had clung to her blossoming romance with Tenchi, finding a solace in that mutual affection. On the contrary, Nagi chose to establish herself on Earth and train with the legendary "Jurai Yosho", rather than return to her father on Jurai. Often, the old Juraian noticed Ryoko taking a moment to visit her mother's grave in the hills near the shrine. Yet, Nagi never had since the day their mother's body was interred.

Katsuhito stood and motioned back toward the path.

"Come with me," he instructed.

Nagi's crimson gaze slid to him as he started down the path. After a moment to steel herself with a breath, the huntress followed, and the two came to another clearing. Here, the gentleman reached behind his back and produced his own bokken.

"You need to relax, Nagi."

Her eyes closed, and her brow furrowed. Frustration was written across her face as she nodded.

"Yes. Kamidake said much the same."

Katsuhito grinned to himself. "He's a bright young man. You'd do well to follow his advice."

Her eyes opened toward the soil beneath her feet. She carefully took a breath, deep and filling, and then released it slowly. Her teacher could see some of the tension fade from her shoulders and arms, though certainly not entirely.

_He taught her a some breath control_, the grandfather thought. _Good_.

"Keep at it," he said while sliding into a back stance, his sword extended toward her.

Her feline gaze rose to meet his. Her breath continued slowly, though she too took sword in hand. He nodded in silence, and she lowered into a forward stance, the tip of her bokken lightly clacking against his.

Nagi's foot slid forward, and her sword dipped to her right to swing at Katsuhito. Calmly, he stepped aside, letting his bokken deflect the blow with a tap and an angle change. She struck again, and the master likewise maneuvered away with ease.

Her eyes narrowed, considering his actions. The huntress swung again, but this time stepped forward into his guard. However, he glided to her side and raised his bokken to strike her exposed shoulder. Quickly, she spun toward him and blocked the strike with her weapon.

As the two slid apart, Yosho commented to himself, _Impressive. She adapts well._

Then, her breath shortened, and she rushed at him, her sword drawn back to strike. However, he slipped away, letting his edge direct the fierce attack aside. At this, he crouched and hooked his foot toward hers. Reacting fast, she hopped away before his sweep made contact.

"Remember your breath!" he scolded.

Frustration shot through her eyes while he added, "Don't anticipate or plan. Breathe. Let yourself feel, Nagi: where your blade is, where mine is."

She nodded, visibly displeased with herself. Again, the two neared one another, their bokkens touching ever so briefly. Katsuhito remembered when he did this routine with Ryoko. She took to it very naturally, even though her technique took much longer to mature. Nagi seemed more like Tenchi or Achika, serious, concerned with each bit of minutiae.

_Juraian blood_, he thought. _We are a self-important people, aren't we?_

His pupil came at him again, this time struggling to keep her breath consistent. He likewise dodged, but felt a difference in her. Her movement was as swift as before, but she recovered a bit more quickly. As they reset their stances, the wise warrior suppressed a grin.

_It's good to have another apt pupil._

X X X

Unlike the Jurai Empire, the Galactic Union was not formed by a single world's imperial expansion, but rather from an amalgamation of cultures. Outside the borders of Jurai's territory, several planets developed faster-than-light (FTL) travel and encountered one another. Most of these "first contact" incidents were peaceful, and the respective worlds initiated trade of ideas and technology. In this way, each race learned from the others and added their own contribution to the whole.

Some encounters, however, were far from peaceful and forced this young alliance to band together to protect itself. From their combined advancements, the newly forged Galactic Union repelled would-be invaders and conquerors. Soon enough, the worlds founded a united government with representatives from each member world. Like similar republican nations, an executive president was elected to stand for the GU in dealings with other cultures, provided they were peaceful. To study and advance the many varied technologies of the Union, the Universal Science Academy was formed and quickly became the center for scientific research. Naturally, unrest still was a problem periodically, and the Galaxy Police was established to handle such matters, supported by the SA's inventions.

Patiently, the Jurai Empire watched the GU arise to prominence, and when the younger nation's borders approached those of older, the current emperor, Jurai Yasu IX, initiated a cautious first contact. Having learned from previous encounters with other races, the emperor introduced his culture to the GU gradually. After a series of talks with the current GU president, Glenn Sterling, trade negotiations and diplomatic treaties were arranged between the GU and the Jurai Empire. Since then, the two nations have acted as allies in numerous circumstances, including the 1896 rampage of Kain and the more recent NVO distortion crisis.

And, in the wake of the latter incident, Jurai's Emperor Azusa II had eased the horrible first contact with Earth with a personal appearance and a formal apology. Still, this situation has thrust the GU into an awkward situation. While Earth had reached the space travel stage, they had yet to develop FTL travel, which was one of the main criteria for the GU to approach a new world. The planet as a whole was ignorant of extraterrestrial affairs before 12 September 1998.

However, some isolated agencies across the planet have had some off-world dealings and contact with alien technology. In particular, a saucer-shaped ship was retrofitted for combat during the aforementioned crisis. Representatives of the GU congress now debated the actual state of Earth's technological advancement.

Today, several representatives of the SA were meeting aboard a GP branch office in the Proxima Centauri system on the express topic of Earth. While many of these scientists were well-versed in interspecies relations and varied technological revolutions, one researcher had had direct experience with the Terran race, having lived on the planet for most of the past three years.

And, she was late. Against the brushstrokes of gaseous nebulae and the colorful arrangements of stars, a single crystalline starship streaked toward the Proxima Centauri GP office. Its onyx finish and angular configuration gave its sharp spines and spikes a menacing appearance. Much like a flower made from gemstone, a spherical region, red in color, was set in the center of these spines. In years past, this vessel would have been known as _Ryo-Ohki_, one of the most famous pirate ships.

But, the Ryoan craft no longer carried criminal intent. The vehicle slowed and gently docked with one of the docking arms around the station's outer ring. Within the arm, rings of scarlet light appeared and flowed down to the deck. Within these luminous circles, Dr. Hakubi Washu materialized from within the ship. Over her usual purple blouse, she wore her formal jacket, a deep green in color with a lighter shade interior. Notably, the lapels were each embroidered with the design of two outstretched wings, an imagery Washu had always found paradoxical to some SA dogmas.

The rings faded, and a similar light enveloped the ship. In a flash of red, the great Ryoan ship vanished and was replaced by a small, furry being. In this form, Ryo-Ohki had a healthy sheen to her fluffy brown coat, much like the bright and curious look in her amber eyes. Set in her forehead was a ruby gem, elongated and spheroidal in shape.

Ryo-Ohki plopped down on Washu's shoulder and quickly balanced herself with a cute mew. The Ryoan researcher grinned and glanced to the small creature, giving her a friendly scratch under the chin.

"Thanks for the lift," she said.

Two GP officers approached Washu, and one addressed her, "Dr. Hakubi, I presume?"

She smirked to herself. "You presume correctly."

"The other delegates from the Science Academy are waiting for you, doctor," the other officer added. "They've already been in the meeting hall for an hour."

The genius folded her arms, her grin not fading. "Then, they might have something meaningful to contribute now."

This response took both officers aback while the petite scientist walked past them. Ryo-Ohki mewed curiously at Washu.

"They can't decide anything without input from all investigators," she stated plainly, "and I'm the only one with direct contact with the planet of interest. They can wait."

A lady's voice called from down the corridor. "That sounds like you, Washu."

The fire-haired Ryoan turned her attention to the door at the end of the hallway, where a woman leaned against the doorframe. Dressed from a similar academic wardrobe as Washu, this lady lifted her reddish-purple eyes to meet those of her colleague. Her long silver hair fell on either side of her friendly face, though most of her mane was tied behind her head with a ribbon matching her eye color.

She smiled, adjusting the rectangular spectacles on her nose. "You know Airi's livid with you."

Ryo-Ohki's amber gaze fell on the new person while Washu's grin only widened.

"Let her be, Naja. She'll get a few more wrinkles that way."

The genius joined her friend, Dr. Akara Naja. This duo had been one of the more prolific in the history of the Universal Science Academy, coauthoring sixty papers in the past three years. Washu had met Naja shortly after being reinstated to the SA after the coup on Jurai, and the two immediately found common ground in challenging one another's academics. Even after Washu was expunged from the SA due to weapon development, the two continued to correspond and collaborate. Now, Naja too was assigned to investigate Earth.

The silver-maned woman laughed to herself. "Only you would antagonize the chairwoman of the board."

The Ryoan genius shrugged. "What's she going to do? She's already kicked me out of the academy once this decade, and I haven't done anything illegal since."

"Well, could you come on, Washu," Naja asked kindly, "for my sake?"

With a playful sigh and smile, Washu conceded. "Sure, fine. Twist my arm, why don't you?"

"Thanks, though I am curious to know what you've been doing on Earth."

The two scientists ambled from the docking arm into the main complex of the station, leaving the two GP officers speechless. Varied races also filled the corridors, most of which were naturally affiliated with the Galaxy Police. A low murmur flowed through the hallways from the different conversations underway as the duo passed. Ryo-Ohki watched the people, sniffing and mewing curiously at some of the strange beings.

Washu shrugged. "Eh, I've sent you most of the data I collected from the New York incident in 1997."

"True," Naja admitted, "but you've been pretty quiet since then. You had some interesting theories about the nature of NVO type energy."

Washu's closed her eyes and sighed softly. "Yes, and I haven't yet come to a conclusion on that investigation yet." Her brows rose slightly. "It's been rather hard to get test samples until now."

The silver-haired scientist grinned wryly. "That certainly isn't a problem anymore."

The redhead nodded. "Quite so." She glanced up to the taller of the pair. "I'll get a paper out on my theories soon enough. Don't worry," she added with a wink. "Besides, what about your work? You were still trying to stabilize genetic duplication, weren't you?"

"Yes, and I've had a lot of successful trials."

"So, I guess you're finally beyond the cellular stage?"

She smiled proudly. "Far beyond. I've successfully replicated entire organisms, Washu."

Interest shone brightly in the minute Ryoan's emerald eyes. "Oh? Do tell. What have you cloned?"

"I've stayed small for the most part: a Curulian sheep, a Wonsian penguin, and a Todainese cat. All were successfully grown to birth and have grown rather well."

"How'd you get around the copy breakdown? I remember that being you main limitation in the process."

Naja patted her friend's shoulder. "I used one of your cohesion boosters. That kept the chromosomes from eroding in the 'blank' cell before mitosis could occur. From there, the copied genetic code took control and overrode the blank."

Washu's eyes narrowed as she considered this idea. "Yes, yes, my organic cohesion booster, glombinatol. It was meant to slow, or terminate, decay of organic material due to enzymatic action, _not unlike_ those found in the cytoplasm of a cell."

"Exactly! I only needed the DNA to survive one mitosis cycle since that splitting process would then preserve the structure. The remainder of my method would recursively handle the remaining cases."

The fire-haired researcher set her hands on her hips and chuckled. "Well, glad I could be of help, my dear colleague."

"Thanks again," Naja added with a grin.

"What're your plans now? Are you going to keep making more sheep and cats, or perhaps," she smirked to herself, "something more complex?"

A soft blush crossed the taller woman's cheeks. "Well… I've had some thoughts about that, but they're a bit premature. After all, I need to get board approval for continued experiments."

Washu rolled her eyes. "Which, Airi will shoot down. You need to live a little, Naja."

Cutely, her friend replied, "Does that mean a little 'homecoming' party for you?"

Ryo-Ohki peered up to her companion, who smiled wryly, some sweat beading on her brow.

"Not if I can help it."

The pair met a pair of pressure doors, which slid aside to reveal a conference room beyond. Here, two other people are seated on either side of an oval table, both quite impatiently waiting on the arrival of Dr. Hakubi.

The amber eyes of Dr. Kurayami Yume collided with the emerald of Washu's. Yume shared a similar height deficit to the Ryoan genius, no more than 130cm tall. Her brown hair was tied on either side of her head in arcing tails, each reaching to her shoulders. Her ears spiked out from either side of her head, lined with a layer of darker fur. This matched the hair that framed her eyes as she curled her lip at Washu. She wore a simple navy blue dress, trimmed with gold and split along either side along her legs.

However, her eyes struck Washu. Within them, she saw a swirling desire and hunger, very familiar in many ways she would later enumerate in her notes.

The other person, Dr. Albert Clay, tapped his finger incessantly on the table, his right eye sliding to meet Washu's gaze. His left eye had been replaced by a black orb with a particular golden gleam in the light of the room. His face had several deep wrinkles, trimmed by a distinctly curling beard. A red robe fell around his portly body, a star-shaped cloak draped around his shoulders. A black hat sat atop his head, seemingly designed more like a pot than a headpiece, but a peculiar logo was sewn into its facing side a golden character on a red, circular field.

The beard and hat specifically resonated with Washu. Looking at the pairing, she could not help but see an octopus squirming on his shoulders, rather than a man's head. She stifled a laugh at the sight of him, much to Clay's irritation. Still, the familiarity lingered for the moment.

"You certainly took your time, Dr. Hakubi," Clay said.

Washu shrugged, the humored grin remaining. "I didn't see any reason to rush things, really."

Yume folded her arms and crossed her feet on the edge of the table.

"Of course not," she added. "A second rate hack like you has nothing better to do than waste my time."

Ryo-Ohki's ears perked up suddenly at the insult while the Ryoan glared over at the other minute researcher.

"A 'second rate hack'? Evidently, you have no idea who you're talking to."

Yume's eyes narrowed. "That's my line. I am the greatest scientific genius in the universe, after all."

Washu's brows furrowed angrily as she stormed over to this upstart.

"Hey! _I'm_ the greatest scientific genius in the universe!"

Yume grinned to herself. "That's not what the tests say."

A wave of Yume's hand signaled the projector in the conference room to produce a holographic display. On this ethereal panel, two columns of data scrolled past, each headed with a portrait of either Washu or Yume. Across the rows, the white text highlighted red where Yume's exam scores surpassed Washu's: energy kinematics, psycho-dynamics, transcendental robotics, and several others. Proudly, the wild-eyed scientist underlined several of the tests with her finger.

"On _every_ major standard test, I performed not only better than you, but at least fifty percent better!"

The fiery-haired researcher folded her arms and raised a brow, her annoyance most overt.

"Standardized tests? You're kidding, right?"

"It's more than sufficient, given the sheer deficit."

Washu rolled her eyes. "If you must know, I was hungover that day after a night of downing shots."

Ryo-Ohki mewed in surprise while Naja blinked incredulously.

"You're kidding?" Naja asked, anticipating one of Washu's usual jokes.

However, the Ryoan shook her head. "Nope. I drank everyone under the table." She grinned to herself, adding, "Which was a shame. Some of those para-physics guys were cute."

The tall woman smiled wryly, as did the cabbit on Washu's shoulder. Nevertheless, Yume rose from her seat, pointing her finger toward her competitor.

"Face it, Washu. You aren't that good, not that you ever were."

The spiky-tressed woman rested her hands on her hips, angling her head aside.

"Come on. Canned exams don't prove anything. Show me some research, Yume." She swept her hand grandly toward Yume. "Show me where you've shattered the space-time continuum, completely overridden an entire organic computer network, or warped across the galaxy in the span of a day."

Yume smiled widely, revealing sharp canine teeth while her wild eyes glared deep into Washu's.

"Oh, I can do better than that. Mushi-!"

Before she can finish, Clay cleared his throat and said, "And, when are we going to actually discuss this backwater planet?"

Both Washu and Yume spun to face the old man, yelling together, "Shut it, octopus-head!"

Taken aback, Clay remained silent, absently stroking the tentacle-like locks of his beard. Promptly, the two diminutive women resumed their verbal sparring with fervor while Naja grinned wryly, sweat beading on her brow.

"This couldn't have gone any better," she sighed, "could it?"

X X X

Though the world as a whole was stunned by the alien advent in New York six weeks ago, young couples still courted despite the shocking news. In Okayama Prefecture, the city Kurashiki was home to the Great Seto Bridge, which spanned across the Seto Inland Sea to Kagawa Prefecture. Much like its sister bridge, the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, the grand structure attracted tourists to the area, including young lovers in need of a romantic backdrop. As such, several restaurants of differing styles have established themselves on either side of the bridge to serve those who visit.

One particular Italian eatery rested near the foot of the bridge on the Okayama side, and its windows gave a splendid view of the sea and the illuminated construction at night. Within, patrons sat conversing over their various dinner choices, some discussing the recent news. Others traded words about their daily highlights between bites of a bread stick, but most of the young couples flirted while waiting for their food.

Masaki Tenchi, however, quietly watched as his companion gazed out the nearby window at the great bridge. In the three years Tenchi had known Ryua Ryoko, she had always had an affinity for this structure, especially in the silver glow of the moon. Even in the ideal world she discovered with the dimensional tuner, she inevitably found her way to the Golden Gate Bridge. The soft smile she wore now was very similar to the one she had then.

For the past month, Tenchi and Ryoko have been officially dating. After the chaos in New York, they took two weeks to settle back into their usual routines before they went on their first date. Surprisingly, despite her usual aggressive nature, Ryoko readily agreed to wait.

_I shouldn't be that surprised_, Tenchi thought. _She went through a lot._

Yet, after those two weeks ended, the cyan-maned woman promptly asserted her claim to his heart. The young prince was walking down the stairs from the Masaki shrine after an afternoon of helping Katsuhito clean the floor of the haiden.

"Tenchi…" her voice whispered behind him.

The young man knew the tone well. Not long after they first met, Ryoko had bound him with rope and snuck into the yokai cave with him in tow. There, she had planned to seduce the teenager with her femininity, though this plan was promptly foiled through the intervention of others.

Tenchi turned toward her voice, but her words rose again near his ear.

"Oh, Tenchi…"

He grinned to himself when he heard the soft whoosh of air behind him. An arm snaked across his chest, her fingers lightly cupping his cheek. Her other hand slid down his abs and rested her hand on his opposite him. Her chest pressed against his back while she whispered softly into his ear.

"There you are."

Her breath warmed his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. One of his hands cupped hers while he turned his head to see her beautiful visage gazing back. Pleased, Ryoko's amber eyes narrowed as she smiled slightly.

"You're pretty sensitive," she commented, her fingers lightly tracing his jawline.

Tenchi blushed and glanced aside anxiously.

"Really?"

She nodded slowly before blowing lightly over his ear again. Her arms drew him closer when he reacted. Her smile grew as she kissed his neck and shoulder, a purr rising from her chest.

_Finally_, she thought, _he's all mine._

Carefully, he turned in her embrace to face her, his arms sliding around her sides. The Ryoan woman held him close as they both leaned into a kiss. The prince parted his lips from his partner's, meeting her eyes with his.

"Where have you been?" he asked. "I haven't seen you all day."

Mischievously, she leered at him. "Just… thinking."

A drop of sweat rolled down his brow. "'Thinking'?"

"Mmhmm."

She gently pushed him back against a tree, pressing herself into him. Caught by surprise, Tenchi's eyes widened, his blush even brighter as her lips slid past his.

"About what?" he asked dumbly.

"Oh, what to do with you," Ryoko whispered hotly, her eyes fixed on his.

Her feline eyes gleamed, seeming to glow in the shade of the forest around them. To say Tenchi was excited would be a gross understatement. Having a beautiful woman like Ryoko tease in this way would erode any man's resolve. Though the young prince was very virtuous and honorable, his imagination quickly depicted some of what Ryoko was certainly considering. He took a deep breath, his heart beating hard against his chest, not unlike hers.

As he released his wind slowly, its heat fell upon her lips, and she again kissed him. However, this time, he felt her mouth open slightly, deepening the oral engagement. His fingers curled against her back, his arms tense while she ran her fingers along the outline of his sides.

Tenchi's thoughts were anything but clear. This gorgeous lady in his arms overtly desired him, had desired him for three years now, and in that time, he had grown to care deeply for her. Likewise, she had developed a genuine love for him, and this expression was natural.

However, the Terran native gently broke the kiss and took a deep breath, calming his heart. Confused, Ryoko blinked and looked back at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's…" he stated, unsure of his words. His brown eyes met the gold of hers, and the blush returned to his cheeks briefly with an embarrassed grin. "… It's a bit fast, Ryoko."

"What do you mean?"

The young man scratched the back of his head nervously, embarrassment still plain on his face.

"I'm sorry. I've just… never…"

The former space pirate furrowed her brows for a moment before the realization came to her. Tenchi sighed softly and glanced aside, but she kissed his cheek. His eyes slid back to her while she smiled warmly for him.

"Tenchi, I'm well aware that you're a virgin."

Her hand gently caressed his cheek.

"… I'll be gentle with you."

His fingers rested top the back of her hand.

"I know… I just…"

The prince closed his eyes, frustrated.

"I love you, Ryoko," he stated plainly. "I really do, and I…"

He paused, his gaze returning to hers. She, however, could not completely hide the dejection in her face. She had waited for him to accept her, to love her, and now that he has, he kept her from sharing this side of herself with him.

"I don't want to mess this up," he continued, honest and true. "I don't want to rush this. When I was in school, I watched several of my classmates get sexual too fast."

Tenchi glanced aside, recalling one incident in particular. A good friend of his, Tsuchida Umanosuke, had been dating one of their classmates, Mizuno Sugano, for a full semester before their last term of classes. The couple would often be found making out on the roof of the junior wing, and their relationship seemed very close, even to a casual observer.

However, during their last year, that fiery passion seemed die. Worried for his friend, Tenchi asked Umanosuke what happened, and he explained.

"'We just burned out'," Tenchi quoted to Ryoko.

Taken aback, Ryoko blinked while her beloved continued, "That's what Umanosuke told me, that he and Sugano just 'burned out' too fast. He said it was exciting at first, but that it just died."

She glanced down in thought, considering this. Her gut twisted at the idea of her blazing desire for Tenchi just snuffing itself like that. In times past, she would have immediately blurted out, "That'll never happen!" or "Don't you love me, Tenchi?" Now, her mind took pause and contemplated this more.

"I don't want that to be us," he added.

"Tenchi," she started, her eyes returning to his, "I don't want to lose you either, and I want to be close to you."

"That's the point, Ryoko," he said as a blush crossed his face. "It's not like I…" He paused, a silly grin only adding to his embarrassed blush. "… don't want to…"

She smiled to herself while he concluded, "But, I want to love all of you, Ryoko, not just your body."

The former pirate had always been ruled by her impulses, and since she met Masaki Tenchi, her very being has wanted to be with him. Though she was disappointed and felt some rejection, part of her was also flattered.

"Alright, Tenchi," the Ryoan answered. "We'll 'go slow'." Her hand cupped his cheek, a mischievous grin arcing across her lips. "But, these lips right here…" Lightly, her finger traced along his mouth, circling the cusp on each. "… They're still mine."

With that, she kissed him lightly twice before the couple embraced, letting the kiss deepen on its own. Gently, Tenchi cradled her neck in his hand, leaving the other to draw her close at the waist. Ryoko's arms draped over his shoulders, her palms pulling his head down toward her.

After a few moments, the kiss broke, though the lady quickly stole two more quick pecks. Tenchi blinked at this, but Ryoko simply winked and replied, "I was a pirate, after all."

"Well, I do owe you a date," he said, a wry smile on his face.

Her forehead rested against his. "You certainly do."

Together, the couple strode back down to the Masaki house, discussing what they would do that evening. Tenchi initially suggested that the two attend a movie. There, they could enjoy the film, and each other's company, without anyone staring at Ryoko's alien features. At this, Ryoko shook her head.

"Good movies don't come out in October," she argued. "Even then, anything worth watching won't hit until Halloween at best."

Her idea, on the other hand, was to dance the night away at a local club. The young man was hesitant, until she outlined the particular details.

"Tenchi, people go to clubs for a few reasons. Either they go to show off and get a date, or they go to show off the date they have." She smirked and added, "A 'cosplayer' wouldn't be new, I don't think."

He considered it, but ultimately conceded, with one condition. The prince requested that she wear her hair down at least to mask a few of her alien attributes. The lady agreed to this, and he found himself opposite her on the floor of "Planet Dance", bombarded by strobe lights and loud trance music.

Ryoko was completely right. She melted into the atmosphere very well, particularly in the black dress she wore. The scarlet seam that spiraled up her body fluoresced under the few black lights mounted in the room. Her cyan hair, now smoothed down around her shoulders, stretched down her back to her waist. Her follicles too glowed in the unseen luminance, not unlike those who had dyed their hair.

As the bass blasted around them, Ryoko guided Tenchi onto the floor and quickly found the rhythm. She shook from side to side, her hands beckoning her man to join her. Needless to say, the "country boy" in him became immediately evident as he stiffly tried to match her steps. Twice, he bumped into two other young people, resulting in the young prince's embarrassment. The Ryoan woman laughed to herself as he tried to apologize to them, even as they blended back into the undulating mass around them.

Tenchi nervously scratched his head while Ryoko strode up to the young prince, taking his hand. She lead him aside, speaking over the loud music.

"Don't worry about it. It happens all the time."

"Sorry, Ryoko," he answered. "I never really learned to dance."

With a grin, she shook her head. "Oh, you did. Your grandpa just never told you."

Tenchi's brows furrowed as his date slid back into the other attendants. Her catlike form slunk into a familiar stance, her hands before her, her front leg drawn up slightly. The crowd slowly began to notice her standing amongst them when the disc jockey changed the music. A solo heavy bass pounded as the cyan-maned woman glided forward. Tenor and alto synthesizer tones wrapped and knitted around the central driving line when her arms swayed to either side.

Again, Tenchi knew this routine. He and she had practiced it ad nauseum before the dark goddess's advent, but never so slow, or as elegant. Where fierce knife-handed strikes would have broken an opponent's wrist, she arched her hand back toward her cheek and neck, curling her fingers with the chords' embrace. Where a kick would have swung at her foe, she instead held her leg for a moment and hotly eyed her beloved, before easing her toes again to the ground. She softened it all, using all she had learned from Katsuhito and her own talent at deception, all to claim Tenchi's undivided attention.

Ryoko grinned to herself as she spun toward him, her hand extended.

_It's your turn, Tenchi_, she thought to herself.

Dumbfounded at her performance, a moment passed before the country boy stepped forward. The music shifted again, a countermelody rose from the tenor line, interweaving with the theme established by the alto. Step by step, Tenchi and Ryoko circled one another, all the crowd watching, the two melodies starting to crescendo.

The chorus broke forth as the two slid at one another and shifted together, close and tight. He would snake his arms around her, but she would slip away, her eyes always locked on his. She would spin her foot at his, and he would jump aside. Ferociously, the couple ensnared and eluded one another, endlessly attacking and countering in a smooth flow. On they went as the melodic lines blended into one, alto and tenor trading the theme off to one another.

Then, Tenchi and Ryoko's hands touched, their fingers wed as the song slowed, now unison. Their breath heaved slowly, their hearts beating within their chests, their eyes ablaze at one another. Ryoko relished this look from him, drawing his arms around her.

_That's the lion-hearted man I love_, she thought as they embraced and swayed.

The crowd stood amazed and soon applauded, bringing a familiar reddish tint to Tenchi's face. His date merely grinned to herself and kissed his lips. The press of her mouth quickly thrust the rest of the world away from her partner's mind, leaving only the pair of them.

In the darkened club, the other attendees gradually returned to their own dancing as the music returned to its speedy pace, leaving the young couple to themselves. As the night carried into the very early hours of the morning, the two would take the dance floor a few more times, Ryoko teaching Tenchi the etiquette and a few moves. However, these moves never caught the rug on fire like that first "sparring match". The evening ended with them walking up the steps to the Masaki estate, arm in arm, laughing about their night. With one last lingering and deep kiss, Tenchi bid Ryoko good night as he retired to bed.

Ryoko, however, did not head immediately to bed. The former pirate took a deep breath, still feeling her boyfriend's lips on hers. She saw his door and thought about how feeble an impediment it was. She could phase right through it. She could destroy it with a gesture.

Yet, she shook those thoughts away and floated up through the roof. There, the Ryoan woman sat on the corner of the red tile as she had so many times before.

_I'm impatient_, she chided herself. _Even the old man said so a while back_.

She folded her arms and looked up at the silver moon looming overhead. The feeling of his arms around him filled her thoughts, part of her aching for that closeness again.

_Still_, she thought, _he did cut loose_.

Her lips curled into a grin. His hands did draw her close. His fingers did wed with hers. None of that was coerced or forced. All of it was him.

_That's a start_.

Now, she gazed out at the moon from within this Italian restaurant, thinking back on the last four weeks of their relationship. The pale light reflected off the Great Seto Bridge, much as it did off the Golden Gate Bridge that last night in her ideal world.

_There's far less excitement and danger in this life_, she thought.

They had agreed to alternate choosing the evening's entertainment, and tonight was Tenchi's turn. While she liked to frequent the clubs, he liked a quiet night at dinner, or even at home with the rest of the household. The cyan-maned woman enjoyed showing off her boyfriend in public, how they moved together and held each other close.

In contrast, the young prince preferred to find a private place for the two of them to have time alone, uninterrupted. Recent nights had found them both laying across Tenchi's bed, in one another's arms. He had become more forward with her, a change that she welcomed, but between the kisses and heated words, he asked her questions she had never been asked.

"What's your dream, Ryoko?"

Caught off-guard, she responded, "What do you mean?"

"You know, what do you want to do in the future?" He grinned wryly. "I mean, you're already famous… well, sorta."

Ryoko glanced down, blinking her amber eyes. In all her harrowing adventures, that question had never been asked of her, not once. Her finger twirled Tenchi's rat-tail while her gaze trailed back up to his.

"True. What's yours, Tenchi?"

His brown eyes glanced aside for a moment and replied, "Hmm … how about becoming a world famous painter?"

She pursed her lips and raised a brow. "Seriously? You want to be a painter?"

"Well, something like that. I can't leech off Dad and Grandpa forever."

The future had always been a black void to Ryoko for much of her life. As a space pirate, she lived from caper to caper, just avoiding the GP and other rival pirates. That excitement had fueled her, that adrenaline rush absolutely addictive. Her one wish for years was to live her life fast and bright, taking everything that she could whenever she could.

The young woman had taken that question, among others, and been rolling them around in her mind for the past few days. As she now looked at the bridge, she broke the silence between herself and Tenchi softly and thoughtfully.

"I don't know what I want, Tenchi."

The prince raised a brow. "… But, we already ordered, Ryoko."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, not about dinner. I mean 'in life'."

Tenchi watched as her golden gaze lowered. Her cyan hair fell smooth around her head, framing her face while she spoke, reflectively.

"I've wanted lots of things in my life: money, men, sake…" She grinned to herself, adding, "I've always been a bit greedy."

Tenchi chuckled, "I can't disagree with that, really." Then, he smile warmly and continued, "But, you have changed over the time I've known you."

She turned her eyes back to him, a slight smile forming on her lips.

"Tenchi, part of me is a pirate, and it always will be." Her head motioned toward the cash register as she whispered, "I'll always think about phasing my hand through that plastic thing and taking the cash." Her hand waved to nearby the door and windows. "I'll always look for the quickest way out."

He took her hand in his and nodded. "I realize that, Ryoko, but you haven't done any of that. You might have thought about it, but you didn't do it. That shows that you've changed."

Her fingers wrapped around his as she raised her eyes to his, certainty prominent in his expression.

"When you're a pirate, you never think about much more than the next caper, at least I didn't."

"Your dad did, I think," Tenchi countered, taking Ryoko aback. "Or else, you wouldn't be here."

She smiled distantly. "Maybe. I never knew him. He was killed in a GP raid before I was even born."

"And, your mom took you to Jurai's territory."

"Yeah," she laughed humorlessly. "To get away from the 'pirate life' that killed him. Some good that did."

"You're out of it now," he said hopefully. "There's a Terran saying, Ryoko. 'You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy'." He motioned to himself. "Part of me will always be the kid from the Okayama countryside, no matter where I travel in this galaxy."

The former pirate listened to him speak, unsure of herself. She hated that feeling, and it was becoming more prevalent as she thought more about her own purpose.

"I don't really know what I'll end up doing either," he said honestly, "but I keep trying to figure it out." His fingers gently squeezed her palms. "And, I know you can too."

She smiled warmly while he added, "And, I don't think it will be robbing banks."

"You so sure?" Ryoko asked, some humor returning to her voice, leaning toward her date.

He nodded, leaning toward her. "I'll make sure of it."

Her fingers slid over his palms as she glanced at his lips and back to his eyes. However, before she could kiss him, the waiter returned holding a tray of freshly cooked food. Promptly, the couple pulled back into their seats for their server to place their dinner upon the table, Tenchi apologizing.

Yet, after the waiter left, Ryoko quickly stole a kiss on his lips. The prince grinned and shook his head while she smiled to herself.

X X X

Horrified, a single maiden heard the cries of an entire people, half of the population of a planet, murdered by beams and blades of crimson light. Her hands clutched close to her chest, her mind rejecting the image of numerous men, women, and even children piled high on shores of blood. Lifeless, they stared back at her, their empty gazes demanding action, revenge. She could feel their hands clutching at her elegant kimono, its beautiful leaf and water embroidery tainted by the carnage around her.

Her rosy eyes closed tightly, wanting to purge these awful images from her mind, but this proved impossible. Closed, her sight was only more clear. Chills ran through her while her ears heard words spoken in a settled calm.

"**Jurai named that event the 'Massacre of Kyuka', the flame that ignited the great war between the nations of Jurai and Ryua.**"

The sentence flowed icily, no hesitation, no remorse. Each syllable sounded not only on a particular woman's voice, but rung out from an entire female chorus, all chordal to the lead. As refined as this speech was, it carried no warmth, no kindness. Only a well-kept scorn issued from these unified voices.

The maiden shook her head, shaking her great tails of azure hair.

"… _Why_, sister?"

From within the matured body of Jurai Sasami, Tsunami, matron deity of Jurai, opened her eyes and focused on her sister. Tokimi, matron deity of Ryua, glared back at her sibling, eyes of crimson and azure narrow, anger and betrayal clear.

"**Is it not evident?**"

Inhabiting a Ryoan woman, the dark matron flexed the violet talons tightly. She circled Tsunami, slow and predatory, the red and black gown caressing and flowing with her regal gait. Behind her flowed a great spiked mane, tied in a single tail much like Tsunami's, easily reaching her heels. Over her head, four feather-like streamers hovered over her scalp, held in place by a golden medallion upon her forehead. Much like the warriors of Jurai, green leaf-like markings crossed her cheeks and neck, plunging down along her shoulders and beneath her clothes.

"**They **_**killed**_** representatives of **_**my**_** world.**"

The feline irises of her eyes became as slits, sharply directed at Tsunami.

"**They attacked **_**me**_**. This was an act of blatant aggression against the Ryoan people, and **_**me**_** in particular.**"

Venom dripped off each phrase, the entire accusation, as it penetrated the Juraian lady's heart. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pleaded to her sibling.

"Why didn't you talk to _me_? Why didn't you _explain_ to Jurai?"

"**Did you ever **_**look**_** into them, dear sister?**" Tokimi answered sharply. "**Did you **_**ever**_** look into the hearts of your beloved Juraian race?**"

Standing before her Juraian counterpart, she stepped back, her arms opening wide to either side. Her fiery gown blended into the shadows around her as she spoke in a hushed disdain.

"**Fear.**"

Tsunami's skin crawled as an item shuffled its way out from her robes, a hairband. Composed of twisted vines and briars, this gray hair ornament held a violet crest that bloomed blades from its vicious garden. The device pulsed scarlet as it drifted toward Tokimi, taking its place over her left shoulder.

The Juraian deity watched the device floating, feeling the turmoil and fright of the one for whom it was made. She could see the swirling emerald and crimson consuming the young woman, seeing the two tearing her body asunder as they warred with one another.

Sasami's voice rose in her thoughts, nearly crying as she too experiencing that event.

_Nagi…_

A second arched hairpiece writhed from Tsunami's robes as Tokimi continued.

"**Rage.**"

The azure-haired woman gripped her hand tight when she saw the item float over Tokimi's right shoulder. It was a tiara, made from tightly bound gray rose-like stems with their thorns sharp and carefully arranged in a regal pattern from the central crest. That centered gemstone was polished, sharp, pulsing a deep scarlet that turned Tsunami's stomach.

From this construct, she could feel her hands around Tenchiken's hilt, tight, the sword heavy in her grasp. She felt a shadowy presence encroaching on her mind, whispering deepest jealousies, tempting and taunting her. Anger and frustration seethed through her heart, but she recognized its voice, its texture. The child inside Tsunami wept, and the lady clenched her teeth, conflicted.

_Ayeka…!_ Sasami's voice whispered.

The Juraian goddess set her eyes onto those of her sister's as the Ryoan deity opened the claws of her right hand.

"**Arrogance,**" she hissed.

A staff appeared near the thorn tiara, levitating just behind the dark woman. Its pole split into vines that gathered into a star-like pattern around a blue orb, its core, which glowed to match the other two devices.

Tsunami settled herself with a slow breath, eying this weapon. She could feel the haughtiness that wielded it on Jurai, how its owner scowled down at a righteous man of the empire. She saw as the weapon lashed out and killed a man, impaling him as his wife watched, screaming.

_Tetta… _the girl answered, somberly.

Tokimi opened her left hand, her icy glare deep into the rosy gaze of her sister.

"**Contempt.**"

A second staff materialized aside the briar hairband, mirroring the first. However, unlike the gray color and smooth texture of the first, this black item cracks into a sharp cage of nettles around its orb, which pulses with the other crests.

The Juraian goddess adjusted her shoulders, uncomfortable. The shadowy scorn that ran through her mind became unsettling, how the man who held that staff regarded everyone as worthless before his power. She could feel herself tense, hearing the needle-like rivets of his energy pierce through a good man, tearing at his flesh.

_Tessei…_ Sasami spoke, her tone more settled and calm.

"**And, most of all, **_**avarice**_**,**" Tokimi said, sliding her right hand toward Tsunami, talons outstretched.

Before the fingertips of the Ryoan matron, sparks of crimson lightning arced, materializing a sword hilt. Branches of a great tree were woven together intricately between the small blue sphere of its pommel and the larger orb of its guard. Like a twisted flower, the guard was closed on itself, silent and awaiting its mistress's order to bloom and strike.

The blue-haired woman cooly and sadly gazed upon the final weapon, its two spherical crests glowing in tune with the others in Tokimi's possession. She could see her power contorting inside the sword's original master, how he could not resist the urge to free it so recklessly. She could hear each resounding clash of that weapon against Tenchi's blue blade as the two fought on Jurai, until the dark warrior was cut down.

_Kagato_… Sasami stated coldly.

Together, all five of these "dark keys" shimmered while Tokimi's feline gaze fell on her sister.

"**Can you feel them now, the vileness and corruption of your chosen people?**"

_Of course I can_, Tsunami thought to herself. The Juraian people were mortal, fallible, just like all people on the infinite worlds in this universe. She never chose to bestow part of herself upon them because they were flawless.

_Why did you?_ Sasami whispered back.

The mother goddess blinked at this.

_If we're so horrible,_ the girl asked,_ why make us powerful enough to ruin the galaxy?_

_Your family are not monsters, Sasami._ Tsunami's eyes closed somberly, a melancholy falling over her. _I apologize. I had hoped we would never have to face my sister in this way._

_I know. I never wanted to see Ayeka like…_

_She will never be that way again, my child. I promise you. She will be whole again._

Tokimi closed her claws around the sword hilt, its guard blossoming willingly for her. Filaments of power burst from the weapon, soon coalescing into a broad blade of onyx, edged in crimson.

"**Ruling Ryua taught me many things, Tsunami,**" she said distantly as she looked at the blade, "**and one of the most important lessons was to take control, to **_**force**_** equity. Two warring nations will not bring peace.**"

Her gaze slid back to the quiet of her sibling.

"**However, one single nation can. But, war splintered Ryua, and me as well. I wandered through numerous worlds and dimensions, considering the future.**"

She lowered the sword at her side, its hum low and deep. She loosened her grip on the weapon slightly, feeling its weight before she tightened her talons again.

"**Several had peoples touched by the divine, ones like ourselves. Prorans like Liaens and Aelins were one. The Kimitan sisters were another.**"

Raising the broadsword, the dark matron eyed it carefully, taking note of the keenness and heat of the edge.

"**For a time, I considered letting Jurai be the ruling power, through Jurai Kagato. That failed in Masaki Tenchi and his mother, Masaki Achika.**"

_It was her_, Sasami whispered to herself. _It was always her._

Tsunami raised her eyes and met gazes with her shadowy sister. The Juraian goddess wanted to dispute this, had wanted Tokimi to have a rational explanation for this torrid history. However, she did, always had.

_She sent Kagato to take Jurai_, Sasami spoke, focus and determination in her voice,_ to… kill Ayeka, Tenchi… and me._

"**However, my people have begun to reunite under my banner.**"

_She created Kain._

"**Ryua will be whole again…**"

_You can't hesitate anymore._

"… **and I will take control…**"

_You have to stop this._

"… **as I should have millennia ago.**"

"You should have come to me, sister," Tsunami finally answered, conflicted. "We could have spared this galaxy so much bloodshed…"

"**Your people are **_**corrupt**_**, Tsunami!**" Tokimi barked back. "**You **_**neglected**_** them! Most no longer even remember your **_**name**_**!**"

_She isn't like Ayeka was_, Sasami plainly said. _Ayeka couldn't stop herself, even though she wanted to._

The lady of light shook her head slowly, no more denial possible, no other way.

_Tokimi _chose_ this, _all_ of this._

"No, Tokimi," Tsunami replied, "some have lost their way, but many have not."

The Juraian steeled her resolve, Sasami's determination now clear and plain in Tsunami's eyes.

"I _will_ not forsake them, whether they forget my name or not."

"**What do you see in them that is worth saving?**" Tokimi hissed back, her glare hard and furious.

The Juraian matron felt a warmth wrap around her, much like a loving embrace. Sasami gasped, recognizing immediately the aspirations of courtly beauty shown before her. She remembered walks through Jurai's fields of amethyst-colored flowers, running just behind the heels of a young woman. Beneath the girl's violet tresses, Sasami could hear a soft laughter and a sisterly tease in the same breath.

_Ayeka…!_ Sasami whispered, a joy filling her heart.

Tsunami nodded as she answered both Sasami and Tokimi, "Nobility."

Near the right shoulder of the azure-haired lady, a sparkle of white light materialized a familiar item, the tiara worn by Jurai Ayeka. Much like the princess herself, the tiara had a striking elegance, composed of intricately woven branches of the aspen-like trees on Jurai. Upon its brow, a regal crest bloomed around a violet gemstone, which glowed a gentle emerald for its mistress.

Sasami could see now through Tsunami's eyes, could see the Ryoan woman used by Tokimi, as well as the dark keys encircling her. This was her sister's foe, now her own. A coolness flowed through both the princess and the Juraian goddess, their minds both fixing on their opponent. Sasami remembered this feeling, this strength that was erecting walls around her heart. It was the same that hunted villains throughout the galaxy, that drove the purple-maned huntress day after day in her quest.

_Nagi…_

"Determination."

Near her left shoulder, a flash of white bestowed her with a second key, the hair-band carried recently by Jurai Nagi. Not unlike the tiara, it was composed of smooth vines and branches, all converging to two particular embedded gems. On one arm, it held a violet crest, similar in design to Ayeka's, but the other socket had a crimson sphere, both shimmering emerald.

In these moments, Sasami's vision grew far wider. She saw the scarlet and onyx flows inside Tokimi's avatar and keys. She witnessed the fall of Kyuka at the dark matron's hands, the vicious war that followed, and its bloody conclusion a decade later on Ryua. Many of the Juraians fought as bitterly as their counterparts, but a select few held no ill will to their foes. Sasami had never considered such matters previously, but recognized the character of this attitude, one that had watched over her and Ayeka since they were born.

_Azaka…_

"Duty."

Alongside Ayeka's tiara, a staff appeared with a swirl of ivory brilliance. Constructed from the oaks of Jurai, this weapon extended five feet in length, including the ornate headpiece. Embedded in the leaflike protrusions of the headpiece, a blue orb glowed a deep green alongside the others, two golden rings slowly rotating about this central orb.

The princess could then feel the gentle fire burning within the matron of Jurai, the love she had for her people, as well as her sister Tokimi. It drove her into conflict, desiring both to protect all Juraians and to hold her faith in her sibling. However, Sasami knew the balance was tipping, that urge to guard her "children", for lack of a better term, from harm stronger. She had seen this drive before in one who had stood for her.

_Kamidake…_

"Passion."

With Nagi's hairband, a second staff appeared in a burst of purity. Much like its brother, this weapon too had an ornate headpiece around a scarlet globe, a single golden ring orbiting the sphere. The crest of the pole was similar to its blue counterpart, but its leaf-like structure was more bottom-heavy, while the other more balanced. It pulsed emerald with the other keys, awaiting their mistress's order.

Lastly, not only could Sasami experience Tsunami's eternal being, but the goddess took a breath and opened her hands at her sides, watching through the girl's eyes her entire life. The matron saw the Azaka and Kamidake dispatch a Juraian destroyer with a mighty demonstration of power. She felt the fear of Ayeka being stolen away by Kagato. She witnessed Nagi's prowess at decimating the Juraian navy almost single-handedly. She even was struck by the vision of Tenchi's ascendence to his power in battle with Kagato, and later against Tokimi.

_Tenchi_, Sasami spoke softly to her other half.

"And, most importantly," Tsunami told her sister, "_courage_."

Before her, Tenchi's sword, his namesake "Tenchiken", glimmered into existence, slowly spinning along its length. Designed much like a katana's hilt, the device was wrapped tightly with vine strands, much like those of the other keys. Its guard seemed chiseled elegantly from a chunk of amethyst, but glowed white, not green like the others. Its pommel, much like Kagato's, resembled a closed blossom, soon to bloom in battle.

_This is why_, she exchanged with Sasami. _I chose Jurai because of what you could be, Sasami._

Her hands raised around the hilt as the wrappings unraveled from around the hilt, extending from the guard like a star. Beneath, a golden grip and leaf-like flanges were revealed while the vines tightly wove themselves atop the violet crest. The flanges snapped up into place, creating a new guard while a wave of ivory washed over the wrappings, encasing them in a bladed shell of silver.

_But_, the princess quietly asked, _why me?_

The goddess's soft touch took the weapon and lowered it into a ready posture, aimed at Tokimi.

_Because these strengths are also yours, my dear_, the matron whispered back.

Coldly, Tokimi closed her eyes and called back to Tsunami, "**Jurai is diseased. Their time is long since concluded.**"

Sasami's anger flared, remembering the pale face of her sister drift through her thoughts. Simultaneously, the Juraian goddess gripped the silvery sword tighter.

"That disease was _not_ wholly of _their_ making," she scolded back.

A scowl crossed Tokimi's features, easily knowing Tsunami's thoughts, as well as Sasami's.

"**You would choose that mortal girl over your own **_**sister**_**? You would let that **_**child**_** you inhabit twist your heart?**"

Tsunami's rosy eyes danced, Sasami glaring back through them at the dark matron. Together, the voices of the Juraian princess and her goddess answered, one boiling with sisterly vengeance, the other swelling with a broken heart.

"**She **_**is**_** my sister, just as Ryoko and Nagi **_**are**_** your daughters.**"

The scowl on Tokimi's face twisted, insulted, baring her teeth as she extended her free hand to the shadows nearby. The darkness parted like an oily sea, to reveal a second silvery sword. This crystalline weapon gleamed when it slid into Tokimi's taloned fingers, its edge both gorgeously sharp and angular. In its hilt was a crimson gem, identical to the one in Nagi's hairband, which immediately burned an emerald green like Tsunami's keys. It arced white bolts of electricity along the hilt and guard of the weapon, each cutting into Tokimi's claws, burning her flesh. Yet, she steeled herself and brandished both this sword and Kagato's dark edge.

"**Tsunami,**" she said, a harsh warning in her tone, "**as your only true sister, I ask you once.**"

Her right wrist twisted slowly, cracking the stiffness from her bones while Kagato's blade blazed brighter. The air around the cutting surface ionized, sending off waves of blood red intent.

"**Stand aside.**"

_I can't_, Tsunami thought.

_I won't_, Sasami answered.

"**Jurai **_**will**_** fall.**"

_She won't_, they thought together.

"**Ryua **_**will**_** rise.**"

Azure light gathered around Tsunami's kimono when the goddess of Jurai, the princess of Jurai, gave her answer.

"**All this is a product of **_**your**_** interference, Tokimi, and I will **_**not**_** let it continue.**"

Soft waves of blue shed her elegant clothing and bestowed her with a white gi and zubon, highlighted in blue and green. These clothes were fitted, snug at the wrists, ankles, and waist, giving her freedom of movement elsewhere. Violet bracers and shin guards protected her joints, each carved with a fluid artistry that poured from her imagination.

Then, the tiara and hairband keys descended upon her shoulders, wrapping around each to form a braided ring. The staff keys followed, crossing behind her back, adhering to either the hairband or tiara. Now, she brandished the silver blade of Jurai, her keys shining bright with her power, her ten Wings of the Light Hawk breaking open reality around her.

Tokimi shook her head, disappointed.

"**So be it.**"

Flames of red burned away the dark matron's gown, revealing her own combat garb. Crimson gloves wrapped like blazes up from her clawed fingertips, also with scarlet bracers around her wrists and forearms. Ruby shin guards rose against the black that ascended along her legs and body, blending into the bloody colors around her chest and collar. Crossing her two swords, her dark keys attached themselves to her, mimicking the placement of Tsunami's. With a broad sweep of her blades, the devices burned deep crimson with her strength, fifteen Wings of the Light Hawk cracking open above her.

Tokimi drew her swords back, the crystalline edge still resisting her. Tsunami met gazes with her sister one last time with one last plea.

"**Please, sister. Stop this.**"

Unfazed, the dark matron shook her head and replied, "**Not until Ryua is restored, and Jurai broken in her place.**"

In that instant, the Ryoan goddess shot forward, the silver sword leading her attack. A single tear rolled down Tsunami's cheek as she stepped forward, raising her own white blade to guard.

Alone, Sasami's young voice whispered from Tsunami's lips, "… I'm sorry, Ayeka…"

X X X

The maiden's rosy eyes popped open with a gasp. Her heart raced in her chest. Her mouth was dry. Hot sweat beaded on her forehead.

Then, a stab of pain rushed through her left shoulder. She could feel a blade punch through her skin, her muscle, followed shortly by a second just below her collarbone.

"_Ayeka!_" she cried out, curling beneath the sheets of her bed. Her breath hissed through her teeth, clutching her shoulder tightly.

Shortly afterward, the pain subsided, though echoes of it rippled through her mind. Her breath soon steadied, as did her heartbeat. Rubbing her shoulder and collar, she found no blade jutting through her body. The smoothness and continuity of her skin comforted her. There was no wound, and within moments, there was no pain.

_What happened?_ the girl asked herself. Her mind clawed for answers, thinking back to her recent dream. However, the more she tried to remember, the more elusive the images became: a woman in white, a woman in black, glowing wings, silvery swords…

Pounding at her door broke her concentration, losing what hold she did have on the memory. Tenchi's voice called from the other side of the door, clearly worried.

"Sasami! Are you okay?"

"… Yes, I'm fine," the maiden answered, draping a forearm over her eyes.

Jurai Sasami laid beneath her disheveled sheets on her bed. Her lip wrinkled in frustration, wanting answers but receiving none. A month ago, she had been ten years old, daydreaming while her elder sister lectured to her about etiquette and history. Now, she had the physical body of a teenager, roughly fifteen years old by Washu's estimates, and all the complications that went with that age. How she aged, why she changed so suddenly, no one has completely explained.

"What happened?" Tenchi asked. "We heard you scream."

"It was just a nightmare, Tenchi," she answered. "I'm fine."

She slid her hand down over her face, sighing hard. Ever since the royal family reunion seven months ago, Sasami had been having disturbing dreams. Most would just wake her once during the night, and she could easily slip back into slumber. However, after her metamorphosis, they had gotten worse, more vivid and frequent. The teen not only could feel the events in the dream, but like a few minutes ago, she would experience "aftershocks" of them.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No," Sasami replied, "it's alright. I just…"

She paused. _What could I talk about?_ she thought. _It's not like I remember what happened._

"You know you can talk to us, Sasami. We all are here for you."

The young woman rubbed the drowsiness from her eyes and pushed herself upright. Her hair was bound in a pouch hanging behind her head, much like her sister had done. Looking around the room, several pieces of Juraian furniture sat around the room: cylindrical cabinets, a regal vanity, even elegantly woven curtains. All were given to her by Ayeka. Even the pajamas she was wearing were originally the elder sibling's.

_But, she's not here._

"I know, Tenchi," she answered softly. "I just need to wake up. I'll be alright. Okay?"

Sasami could hear him shuffling outside the door. He sincerely wanted to help her, as, no doubt, did everyone else in the house. Her heart stung pushing him away like this, but part of her refused to talk with him.

"Okay," he finally relented. "Dinner'll be in a few minutes. It's Nagi's turn." He chuckled, "She's been trying some of those recipes she found."

The thought of the feared huntress Nagi slaving over a hot stove slid into the young princess's mind, and a humored grin crossed her lips.

"Alright. I'll be down soon."

As Tenchi's footsteps drifted away, Sasami glanced somberly down at her toes, rising beneath her sheets.

_No one understands_, she thought to herself.

After her transformation, she approached Washu. As a former professor at the Universal Science Academy, the self-promoted "greatest scientific genius in the universe" should be able to revert the Juraian princess back to her true age. However, the redhead disagreed.

"Sasami," the researcher answered, "frankly, _I_ don't even know what happened to you."

She tapped a key, creating a screen of numerical and graphical data showing streams of high peaks, many leaving the display and being marked "immeasurable". Then, after a certain point, roughly 0234 GMT on 14 September 1998, all the measurements marked "Juraian" dropped to a flatline at zero.

"As you can see," Washu explained, "there were several massive ethereal events that happened from September twelfth through the fourteenth, but then the Juraian signal suddenly stopped at 0242 GMT. It didn't return until over an hour later at 0354."

"But, Washu," Sasami protested, "what does that have to do with me?"

The scientist's feline eyes slid aside with a sigh. The princess could tell this wasn't frustration with her understanding of the material before her. It was sympathy, like with Tenchi.

"Because, Sasami," the Ryoan stated gently, "that _was_ you."

Her rosy eyes grew wide and shifted back to the data again. The information presented before her was far beyond her grasp of the sciences, but even then, she knew that Washu could easily quantify Tenchi, Ayeka, or even Ryoko's abilities. For Washu to say that Sasami's were "immeasurable" caused her young mind to twist around itself with doubt and disbelief.

"In midst of this storm of Juraian and NVO type energy, you literally vanished, Sasami. You reappeared about an hour later, unconscious, ice cold to the touch."

The azure-haired maiden looked back to Washu, who seated herself on the edge of one of her examination tables. Her emerald gaze became distant, remembering that fateful day. While her voice maintained her usual calm, Sasami could see a glimmer of an aging worry in the Ryoan's eyes. In that moment, Washu seemed three times older than her childish frame would admit.

"I was called in to help the doctors stabilize your condition. They were amateurs, but this wasn't an ordinary case. Your body was functioning. You were certainly alive, yet I ran my most comprehensive battery of emergency tests on you. You had _no_ Jurai energy anywhere in your body."

Her eyes met those of the princess, gravely.

"That fabled 'godlike' power was just _gone_."

She paused for a moment. This struck Sasami as strange. Washu never just stopped in one of her explanations, but she could not see why. The princess was alive. Whether her power was there or not should not matter. Washu's gaze slid aside again as she delved back into the minutiae of the case, her voice more cold and distant.

"Of course, the doctors in Manhattan were amateurs at best. We set about stabilizing your body temperature and balancing your fluids. Naturally, I used a saline/equaline solution with a brief thermaline bath after your stats started to come back."

However, Sasami could feel a gentle touch on her shoulder, like a kind hand resting there, caring and supporting. She glanced there and found nothing, no displaced device or mistaken robot. Her own hand slid over her shoulder, but that kind feeling slipped away, another passing dream lost. She became more unsettled, a shiver shooting up her spine at this déjà vu.

"Washu?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Yes?"

The girl's hands became clammy. She licked her lips, delaying her question. Her breath was deep, trying to keep her calm.

"… Did I…?" she started, wringing her hands together. "Did I… die?"

The princess expected the usual quick answer, the undying confidence that Washu had always exuded at every opportunity. She received silence. Washu again did not answer immediately. Her brows furrowed with a soft breath. Then, her green, catlike eyes turned to Sasami, but the teen could swear the researcher was staring more at her forehead.

"You weren't dead when I was with you, Sasami."

"But, you said I…"

"It's equally possible that you were locked in a pocket universe while most of the final confrontation took place. Dropping you onto an ice planet for a few minutes could easily cause your body temperature to plummet."

"Okay, but…"

"And," Washu interceded, a finger raised for her point, "the disappearance of your Juraian energies during that time is one of my top items of research right now. That's why I need your cooperation in the first place."

Despite the Ryoan's kind intent, Sasami could still feel the cold, professional distance Washu maintained. Granted, it existed for their mutual benefit, to keep the scientist's mind clear and to ensure an accurate, unbiased portrait of the situation. However, distance was precisely what the princess did not want at this moment.

"I know," she answered. "Maybe… maybe later."

A genuine worry crossed Washu's brow. "Keep in mind. The sooner we start the study," she warned, "the sooner we will answer your questions."

"I just…" the teen started. She did want answers, but at the same time, she did not. _What if I really did… die?_ she thought. _How did I come back? What am I now?_

All Sasami's life, she had been sheltered within the Jurai royal family, not unlike her elder sister. She had to adhere to the courtesies and customs of royalty, rather than have the freedom of most children. She was naturally extroverted and wanted to make friends with everyone she met, but her position stymied this at every turn. Often, she had made a new friend only to be ripped away by either her own move, or by a move of the other. Even though she knew how important the traditions of Jurai were, she wanted to throw them away and be a normal little girl.

_But, _she admitted,_ I'm not normal, am I?_

On Earth, she could be just "Sasami", not "Princess Jurai Sasami". She gained a close friend in Ryo-Ohki, as well as the other residents and constant visitors of the Masaki estate. Now, the household had drastically changed. Mihoshi and Kiyone had gone back to the Galaxy Police. Washu was constantly busy with the Science Academy and often off-world, usually with Ryo-Ohki. Tenchi and Ryoko were romantically involved and usually off alone together. While Nagi had moved into the house, she and Ken-Ohki were rarely away from either their bounty hunting rounds or training with Katsuhito.

_Then, there's Ayeka…_

"I just can't right now," she told Washu.

Sasami remembered the melancholic expression on the scientist's face as she nodded, accepting this response. She clearly wanted to help, in her own way. Now, sitting in her room, the princess sighed hard as she rose to her feet and slightly parted the window's curtains. Outside, the lake rested peacefully next to the Masaki home, its water lightly lapping at the shore beneath the starry night sky.

However, Ryu-Oh's great tree no longer stood majestically at its center. She remembered a couple winters ago, shortly after her arrival on Earth, when she rushed to Ayeka and showed her the sapling of Ryu-Oh's regeneration. Then, Azaka and Kamidake stated that the tree could never again fly.

_But, she flew away…_

Sasami turned away from the window and sat at the vanity. Her rosy eyes fell upon her new matured appearance. Her face was more defined, the childish roundness almost gone. Her freckles were likewise faded, blending into the her overall skin tone. Her azure-colored hair was clearly longer and fuller, almost covering the twin-triangle birthmark on her forehead.

She reached behind her head and slipped off the pouch around her great mane, letting its length fall gracefully behind her. Setting the pouch aside, she took a brush and began grooming the strands, a habit she had acquired long before her transformation. Idly, the girl just eyed the pouch on the vanity's counter. Both were Ayeka's. The comb and pajamas were as well.

Sasami paused and raised her gaze to her reflection. With her hair down, the resemblance was far stronger. She remembered watching Ayeka brush her hair in this way, and being taught to do it herself by her older sister. Everything she knew, Ayeka had taught her. Sasami never had the chance to know her parents. Both had died shortly after she was born, leaving Ayeka to try and fill that gap in both their lives. However, she could not, not and be the crown princess that society demanded that she be. Ayeka was the only close family Sasami knew. For all intents and purposes, she was Sasami's mother.

_But, she's gone. She left me._

The violet-tressed princess departed Earth over a month ago now, after they had all returned from the recent incident in Manhattan. Sasami could still remember the amber light cast on the lake and house from the setting sun. Above, both Katsuhito's Funaho and Ayeka's Ryu-Oh floated silently, the hull of each scarred from the recent combat in America, particularly Ryu-Oh's.

Dressed in one of her favorite blue kimonos, Ayeka stood at the lake's edge, her eyes set on the ground below. Sasami knew that look, the same one she carried when Tenchi left Jurai after Kagato's defeat. She was going to leave. She had been planning it since her return to Okayama.

"Everyone," the regal-haired lady spoke, "I thank you for understanding."

Her hands were clutched tightly together. She had been broken ever since Manhattan, possibly even before. Her voice was clear and practiced, as with every speech she had ever given. She wanted distance, and the emotional safety that it afforded her.

"I will rest well knowing my sister is in your care. I do apologize for this inconvenience. I wish that it didn't have to be this way."

Beside Sasami, Tenchi and Ryoko both nodded sadly, though the young prince took a step forward.

"It's alright, Ayeka," he answered. "We'll take care of Sasami for you. You take care of yourself too."

His voice had always been warm and welcoming to all of them, but Sasami could hear a somber edge to his tone. He really had not wanted this either, not this way.

"You'll always have a home here with us. I… we all hope you can come back one day."

A tear rolled down Ayeka's cheek, but this was the only crack she let through her regal mask. She loved Tenchi, deeper than she had ever expressed openly. She loved Sasami, more than just as a sister. This humble estate on Earth had become her home, and she was ripping herself from it.

Her gaze briefly raised to meet Ryoko's, as the former pirate stood beside Tenchi and Sasami. There was no malice, no hate, not really jealousy. Only regret was silently exchanged between them. Neither wanted this ending to their story.

Nagi bowed her head in a respectful silence, acknowledging the princess's rank and decision. While she renounced much of her Juraian heritage, the huntress understood Ayeka's choice, and its repercussions all too well. Katsuhito was likewise quiet in this farewell. He knew the royal court and its machinations as well as the princess herself, and in her place, he would have done the same. Nobuyuki, however, extended his hand to her and kindly gave her one last offer.

"You can still stay here," he said. "I've been thinking of kicking Tenchi out on his own anyway."

He chuckles, as did Katsuhito. Nagi smirked to herself while sweat beaded on Tenchi's brow. The prince scratched the back of his head nervously, though Ryoko folded her arms with a humored grin. Still, with a warm smile of her own, Ayeka shook her head and waved the offer aside.

"That is very kind, Mr. Masaki, but I need to be away."

Yet, Sasami's hands grasped at her kimono sleeves. Her teeth gnashed as tears started to blur her vision. She could not understand. They were a family. This was their home now. She darted out at her sister and clutched her close, dragging them both to their knees.

"I don't want you to go, Ayeka!" Sasami sobbed into the blue fabric of her sister's kimono. "This is your home too! Everyone just said so! You should stay!"

Ayeka's arms looped around Sasami, holding her close as another tear rolled down her cheek, hidden by the younger sibling's sobs. Embracing one another, Sasami could feel Ayeka tremble beneath her regal robes.

"I… I'm sorry, Sasami…" Ayeka whispered to her softly. "I wish I could…"

"It doesn't matter if Tenchi and Ryoko are together," the teen sobbed quietly.

Gently, the violet-tressed lady eased her sister back and met her gaze, steadying herself enough to speak clearly.

"It's not just that, Sasami. Too much has happened. I have too many memories here. I need to start anew. I need to leave for that."

"Then, I'll go with you."

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Like you said, this is your home. This is where you belong." Motioning to the others around them, she added, "And, they are the only ones I trust with your wellbeing."

Lightly, Ayeka kissed Sasami's forehead, just below the twin-triangle marking before resting her own forehead there. Her eyes closed as she took a slow breath, keeping control on her feelings.

"You deserve a normal life, Sasami. You always did. That's what I want for you."

Ayeka embraced her sister one more time, tightly and warmly, whispering to her, "I love you, Sasami, and I always will, no matter where we are."

The last vision Sasami had of Ayeka was when the regal-tressed lady stood and stepped away, vanishing in the emerald light of Ryu-Oh's teleporter.

Looking at her reflection in the vanity, the teenage Juraian lowered her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her hands again clutched her shoulders tightly, remembering that last embrace from her dear sister.

X X X

Shortly after her release in 1995, Washu integrated two dimensional doorways into the Masaki house. The first, of course, was connected to the old broom closet and led to her personal pocket dimension, which housed her laboratory. She rigged the other to the bathroom door with a genetic sensor. For a humanoid male, the doorway remained dormant, giving the entrant only the existing spartan bathroom. However, for a female, the system awoke and revealed a spacious onsen, luxuriously furnished with plenty of amenities. Among these were the the beautifully carved fountains in the center of the main pool, the plants distributed throughout the chamber to filter the air and water, the molecular converter system to create sake from the ambient energy of the local compression ratio, and plenty of others.

Nagi was honestly impressed. She had had the opportunity to stay at high-class hotels on occasion, usually for high profile targets in crime syndicates. She had to admit that Washu had very fine taste in décor. The clear, steaming water soothed her aching muscles, caressed her bare skin. The pleasant scent of the leaves and flowers soothed her lungs and sinuses. The quiet babble of the water and the smoothly curved sculptures eased her eyes and ears. The huntress laid back against the edge of the pool, letting her arms and legs relax beneath the surface of the water.

_This has got to be the best way to relax_, she thought to herself.

After hours of cracking bokkens with Katsuhito, her body needed a long soak to loosen her tension. Her mind needed to be just empty for a while. She had no worries, no bounties to chase, no kata to remember, just peace and quiet.

Then, a whooshing noise caught her ear. She promptly sat up and reached back to her rapier. Her crimson eyes shot toward the entrance, a fierce glare set firmly on her brow.

There, Ryoko stood holding a traditional wooden bucket of sake bottles and cups, not a shred of clothing to be seen. The cyan-maned woman raised a brow at her half-sister, considering the weapon in her hand.

"You're jumpy," the former pirate commented.

The purple-haired woman set her sword aside again and slid back into the water. Her eyes never left Ryoko as the Ryoan woman stepped into the warm water, letting the bucket float at her side.

"Most people knock," the huntress grumbled.

"Never had to before," the elder sister muttered back.

Nagi just huffed and returned to laying back in the water. Ryoko sighed and shook her head, sitting down on a ledge beneath the surface. The soothing currents easily met her chest as she too surrendered to the fluid's embrace. She rested her shoulders on the edge of the deck, her arms outstretched to either side. Her eyes closed while her head leaned back, a relaxing breath slipping from her lips.

However, both sisters could not completely rest at ease. Calling their relationship "rocky" would be a gross understatement. For roughly six years, Nagi had chased Ryoko, swearing to be the one to take her head for her crimes. At the time, the latter had not known that they were blood kin, let alone the reason for the passionate vendetta. The former pirate speculated from time to time, but she never really worried about it much. She had seen plenty of crazy hunters out for "justice" on her tail, but Nagi was far more tenacious, and many times more vicious.

Then came seven months ago, the incident at the reunion of the Jurai royal family. By this time, Ryoko had been acquitted of all her past piracy charges, thanks to her efforts helping the Galaxy Police and Jurai on several previous occasions. However, Nagi could not care less, continuing to demand a duel with the former criminal. Distracted by this old hatred, both were caught off-guard by a new foe.

Enter the master telepath, Jezibel Kimitan. With her talents at mental probes and mind control, she took the guise of Ryoko's mother, twisting her memories of Tenchi and Ayeka into a seething, angry confusion. In midst of the lies laid a single truth. Ken-Ohki confirmed it, showing his memory of a funeral from his perspective upon Nagi's shoulder. The huntress's own burning words from the gravesite only cemented it.

"Wasn't I anything to you? Weren't we, Father and I? If you would have stayed, maybe we wouldn't have been...!"

Ryoko had always felt alone. She sometimes had thought of her peers in the pirate guilds as surrogate fathers and brothers, but many of them, at their heart, would only use her to their own ends. Her father, the dread pirate Ten Akuno, died in a GP raid before she was born. Her mother was also gone forever. She did have Ryo-Ohki, but theirs was not the same kind of relationship. Now, suddenly, she had a sister, a sister who absolutely hated her. This fact ate at her, cut deeply into her.

_Why?_ she asked herself. _What did I ever do to her?_

Those answers were locked inside of Nagi's mind, then under assault from Jezibel's wicked design. Along with Tenchi and Ayeka, Ryoko stole her half-sister back and returned to Jurai. There, the purple-haired woman remained unconscious, trapped inside herself by the green-eyed witch.

However, she had a key. Via her connection to Ryo-Ohki, and Nagi's to Ken-Ohki, Ryoko tapped into her half-sister's nightmare. Within, she saw, and felt, the undercurrents of the huntress's vendetta. She saw the Juraian children taunting her, calling her "half-breed" and "cat-fucker". She saw her ripped from her father's side and placed in an orphanage, slapped by the headmistress for her pride. Ryoko was taken aback when, even as a girl, Nagi took the hit and glared back icily, red handprint across the black mark on her cheek.

"… Is that the best you have, you old crone, a slap?"

She understood. They were not that different, the dread pirate's daughter and the captain's illegitimate daughter. Underneath, Nagi did too.

Since the incident, the pair have had an unspoken accord. They could tolerate one another and have even lived under the same roof for nearly a month. However, some attribute this more to their respective lives of late. Ryoko has been far more involved with her relationship with Tenchi, Nagi her training with Katsuhito and bounty hunting profession.

Laying in the hot pool, Ryoko took a sake bottle and a cup for herself before she pushed the floating bucket toward Nagi. The huntress glanced up while her counterpart raised her bottle.

"How's it going with the old man?" she asked. "Is he still a taskmaster?"

The purple-haired woman took a bottle of sake, scoffing to herself.

"Fine."

With a sip of alcohol, Ryoko grimaced and answered, "'Fine'? That's it?"

"Yes," the younger sibling answered plainly, downing a cup of liquor.

"Nothing more specific, like how sparring or forms were?" the elder asked, pouring another cup.

"No," Nagi answered, sipping her second cup.

The cyan-maned woman poured another cup, rolling her eyes. "Well, he kicked my ass for two months before he let me use my powers."

Then, she grinned to herself, remembering cracking bokkens with Tenchi, his breath deep and controlled, her heart pounding more from excitement than exertion. Honestly, she could imagine far more fun ways of spending her time, but she did enjoy watching him figure out her defenses. When she had learned to read him, it became another way to tease him, giving him an opening and then stealing it away.

"Though, it did have its advantages," she chuckled distantly with another drink.

Nagi glanced aside, irritated. "No doubt, that was due more to his grandson."

With a smile, Ryoko threw back another shot of liquor and commented, "You're damn right he did."

The huntress downed another drink, listening idly, her thoughts to herself.

"I loved toying with him." She raised her finger. "He'd thrust," she said before she curled her finger. "I'd parry." She flicked her wrist. "I'd counter; he'd dodge." She laughed, "I felt so restricted on the ground then, but…"

She trailed off, thinking of her dances with Tenchi in the clubs recently, how they synchronized and melted into one another's motions. Her arms curled around her chest, her chin resting on her knuckles, a pleased smile on her lips.

"You are hopeless," Nagi sighed as she tilted another cup of asked against her lips.

"Jealous?" Ryoko inquired, her eyes sliding back to her sister.

A subtle blush appeared on the purple-haired woman's cheeks, while she threw back another shot of liquor.

"Hardly," she replied.

The former pirate took a sake bottle in hand and sipped on it before she glanced down at it thoughtfully. Balanced between her thumb and forefinger, she tipped it side to side, sloshing its contents inside. An alcoholic blush of her own rose on her cheeks.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, that knight seemed to have a thing for you."

Nagi's eyes turned to the full sake cup in her hand, seeing a translucent reflection of herself. Absently, her fingers rested against her cheek and lightly traced the black claw imprinted there. It had always been there since she was born, every time she looked into a mirror. It signified her mixed heritage, spawned by the differential of the two powers she carried. Many days in her childhood, she loathed it.

"No, he didn't," she answered coldly, and quietly. "Don't mistake chivalry for affection."

Ryoko drank from her sake bottle directly, before she smirked with a chuckle.

"Come off it, sis. He was interested in you, and it wasn't just his job talking."

The huntress glanced to her half-sister, irritated, the redness on her face a bit brighter.

"He is sworn to protect Jurai's royal family, and my father is a descendent of the first king. His only interest in my wellbeing was due to his oath."

The cyan-maned woman rose a brow.

"Seriously?" she replied, her voice flat. "You seriously think that's it? Did you even talk to him afterward?"

"No," Nagi responded, a heated irritation in her voice.

"Why the hell not? He took a _hit_ from that bitch for you," she said, taking another shot of sake, "both of us really. You owed him at least 'thanks for saving my ass'."

The younger sibling's eyes narrowed into a glare with her answer.

"I repaid him by helping you and your friends eliminate her."

"God, you're a moron," Ryoko blurted out, rolling her eyes. "Did you even pay attention to the guy? On Jurai, the old man told everyone to rest up, and what does the red knight do? He checks on _you_. When Jezibel caught you, guess who was the first to volunteer to get you, after me."

Nagi's fingers gripped along her forearms, her protests louder.

"He failed to protect a descendent of the king, like the others that fell that day. He felt it his obligation."

"Let me tell you why _that's_ bullshit," the cyan-maned sister added, tossing her empty bottle into the floating bucket. "I've had guys try to play me before, and I bet you have too. Players don't keep coming back after you slap them away like you did."

A scowl twisted on Nagi's lips, her nails gripping into her skin.

"When the bitch came," Ryoko argued, "who came and helped you learn to use that precious key of yours? Who did Sasami send to look after you when your powers went crazy?"

"_Obligation_, Ryoko. Tsunami _sent_ him."

"Uh huh. Someone who's _assigned_ to protect you doesn't say what he did the _way_ he did. Keep in mind. I was _there_ too, both when Jezibel went down and when the bitch came after you."

Nagi gnashed her teeth, closing her eyes, pushing down her temper. However, the liquor had already done its job, removing many of her inhibitions, such as her vow to be peaceful.

"Think about it, sis," Ryoko continued, raising her hands from the water, palm up. "Look at the two Juraian knights." She raises her left. "The guy in blue is a little older, a little wiser, and knows how to get shit done. He fights like hell…"

She then swapped the elevations of her hands, nodding to Nagi.

"… but not like his partner. When they showed up, I swear that redheaded guy was going to rush the bitch. You could _hear_ it in his voice and _see_ it in his face."

Then, she looked over to her sister, seeing the scowl and the tension in her body.

"_What_? It's _true_. Besides, he's pretty hot. I'm surprised you haven't even said '_hello_' to the man, let alone jump him."

At that, Nagi stood up from the water, swinging her arm broadly before her bare form.

"Shut your _mouth_, Ryoko," she barked. "You don't have _any_ idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do," the former pirate laughed as she leered over at her sister. "You need to get _laid_, sis."

As she started to raise another cup of sake to her lips, Nagi slapped her hand aside, knocking the cup away. Surprised, Ryoko looked back up at the seething huntress standing over her.

"Hey, I was going to drink that!"

"You've had more than enough," Nagi retorted, raising an accusing finger to the cyan-maned woman. "I'm not like you, Ryoko. I don't need a man between my legs to define myself."

Ryoko's brows furrowed. "Whoa, where'd that come from?"

"Don't pretend. You drape yourself all over the Masaki boy."

"Now, wait a sec," Ryoko answered, standing from the water. "Tenchi and I haven't slept together yet."

A sneer crossed Nagi's lips as she answered, "Let me tell you why _that_ is bullshit. You've lived with him for three years, and with your 'colorful' record, I'm surprised that the princess stayed here as long as she did."

The amber eyes ignited as the former criminal shook her head slowly.

"Don't."

"When _did_ she find out?" the huntress asked, leaning closer, a devilish smile on her lips. "When she was possessed, how much of that was really _her_?"

Ryoko's hand connected hard against Nagi's cheek, her handprint bright red over the claw-mark.

"That _wasn't_ Ayeka!" she screamed back.

The crimson eyes slid back as the hairband key glowed a deep violet, the gem a brilliant scarlet. Fury burned in her gaze as her hand slapped each of her sister's cheeks quick succession. Anger flared in the cyan-maned woman while her fingers gathered into fists, the gem in her bracelet shining brightly. As their feline eyes met, the old rivalry renewed itself, the years of conflict resurrected.

Nagi leapt from the water to the tile, taking her sword in hand. Ryoko darted up from the water, her scarlet power welling in her palms. The huntress stood, her sword ready. Her prey closed her hand around her red light, forging her own blades. As one, the two flew at one another, swinging their weapons to strike. Their edges connected, sparking a ruby brilliance around them as the blades ground together.

Outside, Sasami was scaling the stairs, her towels and clothes folded in her arms. However, her rosy eyes widened at the bright light shining from around the bathroom door. Rumbles and explosions were heard from the other side for a moment. Then, the door blew off its hinges and flew at the Juraian princess, followed by a burst of red.

With a shriek, she raised her arms before her, dropping her linens. A spherical shell appeared about her, deflecting the door aside, as well as the scarlet blast that followed. Dumbfounded, she blinked at the effect, the reaction of emerald and ruby in front of her.

Behind her, Tenchi and Nobuyuki rushed partway up the stairs and halted at the scene before them.

"Sasami!" they called out together.

Soon, the scarlet burst faded away, leaving a smoking cinder that was the second floor hallway. The bathroom door was now embedded into the nearby wall, its hinges hanging limply with the screws and parts of the frame still attached.

Sasami's breath heaved from her chest as she slipped down to her hands and knees, the excitement still rushing through her. The shield construct vanished, letting the smoke flow past her. Tenchi came to her side, setting a kind arm around her shoulders.

"You're okay, Sasami," he said. "It's alright."

She nodded while they looked up toward the former bathroom doorway. There, they could see easily into the women's onsen. The beautiful statues stood broken and scarred by sword strikes, scorched and blackened from energy blasts. The plants hung low, splintered or burnt from the exchange. The water was all but gone, evaporated from the climactic blast that had taken the door.

Tenchi helped Sasami back to her feet and walked with her inside, looking at the devastation.

"What happened?" Tenchi asked.

"I don't know," Sasami answered, shaking her head. "I was just… coming up for a bath. There was a red flash and then…"

She was cut off as the two reached the edge of the pool. At the bottom of the basin sat Ryoko and Nagi, each leaning against one of the sidewalls. The siblings were likewise scorched and scuffed from their combative action, though they were unconscious of it now.

Tenchi sighed and rested his face in his hands while Sasami grinned wryly at the two of them.

"It figures," Tenchi commented.

"Yeah," Sasami agreed, "it does, doesn't it?"

She glanced back to Nobuyuki, who stood at the entrance to the hallway. His eyes were glazed, his body stiff and rigid from the sight. Sweat beaded in Sasami's hair while Tenchi ran his hand over his scalp.

"At least Washu's not here," he commented, right before a familiar voice caught his ear.

"What the _hell_ happened here?"

Tenchi and Sasami spun back around to see Washu standing in the doorway, positively livid. Sweat then beaded on both their foreheads as they pointed into the pool at Ryoko and Nagi.

"So much for that," Sasami added.

"Right," Tenchi concurred.


	3. Chapter 2: Growing Closer

Chapter 2 – Growing Closer

Seven months ago, the planet Jurai was sacked by an ancient foe, one who was only remembered as a nameless villain in an early imperial legend. During the Jurai royal family reunion, when most of the Juraian nobility returned home, very few of the attendants knew of the threat looming closer to their lush world. Even fewer were prepared when the blast wave of NVO energy swept over the surface of the planet, taking both the power and consciousness from every noble it touched. Only those expressly enveloped in Tsunami's wings were spared this fate.

Jurai Nagi remembered the moment clearly. Following her rescue from the enemy's clutches, she laid in a palace infirmary, recovering from the psychic torment of Jezibel Kimitan. At her side sat Capt. Jurai Tensho, her estranged father. Their first meeting after nine years, so much was different: the feel of his hands clasping hers, the gray streaks in his jet-black hair, the new lines etched in his face. She wanted to express how she missed him and held tight to his lessons, but words failed her with her tiredness. Likewise, he wanted to tell her how he thought about her and followed her career, but his tongue also forsook him. Neither knew the other anymore, and both yearned to find that connection again.

Thankfully, Ken-Ohki mewed to Tensho, and the soldier gently scratched the little creature's head. The white cabbit purred softly, softening the man's cocoa-colored eyes.

"He's your partner then?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, father," she answered, glancing to her ally. "We've been together for a long time now."

He scratched the cabbit carefully under his chin, causing Ken-Ohki to lift his head slightly.

"He certainly does care deeply about you," Tensho added with a smile starting to cross his lips.

"As I care for him," she noted, her eyes trailing toward her father's face.

In that moment, the huntress felt some relief and contentment, some normalcy in her violence-filled life. Nostalgia warmed her heart, reminded of how he had read her stories and legends as a child. They would have talked the rest of the night if Fate had chosen differently.

Sadly, when Tensho opened his mouth to speak next, his eyes widened at Nagi's purple hairband. The item pulsed with a white light when a shield of light cracked reality over the huntress's sheets, a Light Hawk Wing. At the time, neither was familiar with the construct, and unease took them both.

"What is that?" Nagi asked.

"I'm not sure, but your hairband is pulsing with it."

Ken-Ohki hissed at the wing as it grew translucent and enveloped Nagi in its protective embrace. The huntress rose from her bed, confused by the field surrounding her, trying to touch it, to remove it.

"What the hell is going on?!" she demanded from the ether. "What is this?!"

With no warning, a wave of red light swept over the room, washing over everything and everyone in the room, save Nagi. Ken-Ohki curiously mewed at the ruby front as it passes harmlessly over him. However, the wake of the energy wrapped Tensho in a shroud of pain, his body tensing, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. He grabbed his arms and stumbled backward from his daughter's bedside, his eyes tightly closed.

Nagi called out to him as she and Ken-Ohki leapt from the bed. Her arms caught her father and eased him down to the floor when his own strength gave way. Within seconds, his body fell limp in her embrace, his consciousness ebbing from his face. Cradling his form, she called to him, demanding and then pleading for him to answer her, while the wing's protective shell faded along with the amaranth wave.

Tears appeared at the edges of her crimson eyes, the first in nine years. Her heart shattered, all the warmth she felt spilling away into loss and hate. Her small partner's consoling mews and rubbing gave no solace. Despite her accumulated strength and skill, her father had been stolen from her again.

As the other survivors of the NVO attack gathered to mount a counteroffensive, revenge was all that Nagi could see or feel. Katsuhito and the knights, Azaka and Kamidake, explained their three-team scheme to fight their enemy. Nerti Ro detailed all her knowledge of the enemy's weapon systems. The huntress merely seethed in her rage, silent a distance away from the others. She listened intently to every detail, memorizing them, already planning her own means of attack.

At last, Tenchi asked the one question Nagi had waited to hear.

"Then, who's in each group?"

Promptly, Will Pii answered, "I want a shot at Liaens. I've chased him and studied him for the past few months. I know his current strategies and abilities."

Nagi knew of Edward William Pii vaguely. Like her, he was a bounty hunter, though he was far less remarkable. His missions had always been closer to search-and-rescue than apprehension, and she could now see the reason sitting right next to him. The blonde-haired Nerti Ro had been kidnapped by the enemy three years ago, and he had been readying himself to save her. The bounties he received only funded his search for her, each mission investigated with a hope of finding a clue to her whereabouts. Avenging her, and himself, were his true motives.

Coldly, Nagi commented, "And, you have a fresh vendetta."

Pii's head swiveled over to her, an irritated curl to his lip. Though a black visor concealed the glare of his brown eyes, Nagi could tell her words sliced straight to his true purpose. However, she was not prepared for the retort.

"_You're_ one to talk after chasing your own half-sister because of your 'mommy issues'."

Fury boiled beneath Nagi's cold facade as her attention spun back to him.

_How dare he!_ she seethed. _How dare he compare…!_

Aghast, Nerti called to her would-be rescuer, and he sighed heavily, knowing he had crossed a significant line. An awkward silence followed for a moment before the sage words of Masaki Katsuhito settled the matter.

"I agree that your knowledge of the man will be helpful," he said, motioning to Pii, "but your hotheadedness is a detriment."

A slight grin curled Nagi's lip before the legendary prince turned to her.

"As is _your_ pride."

The grin vanished from the huntress's face, her eyes sliding to Katsuhito's knowing gaze. He could see the same vindictive feelings dripping from her words and mannerisms. Admittedly, she knew the truth in his words, though she remained silent, her arms folding around her chest.

The great man then turned to his grandson and said, "That is why you need someone more centered to balance you both."

When Nagi first met Tenchi, she could not see what Ryoko desired in him. He was so ordinary, so boring, some common boy from the edge of the galaxy. Numerous worlds had thousands of young men just like him. His defeat of Jurai Kagato changed this opinion, though his lack of self-confidence and indecisiveness continued to irritate her. Everyone else in the room supported Tenchi's inclusion in the main attack party immediately.

"And you?" Katsuhito asked the huntress.

The purple-haired woman spun away, drawing her cape around her shoulders.

"I'll handle my part of this," she answered coldly as she left them in the infirmary.

Walking amongst the fallen bodies of Juraian nobles did not improve her mood. Her feline eyes glimmered in the dim light of the corridors, seeing quite clearly as she stepped around the unconscious people. Silence pervaded the palace, despite the actions of the other survivors.

Nagi furrowed her brow, frustrated. She wanted to act, immediately, mercilessly. She wanted to inflict pain on those who had hurt her father, hurt her. This affront superseded her vendetta against Ryoko. Her hands clutched her arms tightly, holding them close while her emotions burned hotter.

Shortly, the huntress reached the grand ballroom. The elegant décor laid torn and toppled by the collapsed nobility from their throes when the red light washed over them. Wine glasses were shattered, platters of food scattered across the floor, tapestries pulled loose. Nagi walked around the debris and people, slowly making her way toward the great glass doors and the terrace beyond.

There, in the Juraian moonlight, she stood watching the wind shudder the leaves of the magnificent trees. Her features were softened some in the silvery light while her cape billowed around her shoulders. The natural quiet was calming, the babbling flow of the water in the canals, the rustle of the leaves.

Gradually, her scowl melted away to a distant gaze at the beauty before her. She had not looked upon the grandeur of her home-world in nine years. She remembered the feel of the wind on her face and hair, the smell of the oxygen-rich atmosphere. Hidden deep within her heart, the girl she once was wept.

Footsteps behind her grabbed her attention. She glanced back to meet the gentle eyes of the younger of the two knights, Juraiko Kamidake. His red hair flared around his around his brow, flowing much like the white gi and hakama that wrapped around his body. At his side was his crimson staff key, its headpiece ornately craved like leaves sprouting from the central orb. One golden ring orbited silently around this portion of the device, waiting for the commands of its master. Across his right cheek, the Mark of Rage rose from his chin much like the leaf-motif of his staff, unlike the more claw-like appearance for other Juraians, or Nagi herself.

"Are you well, Lady Nagi?" he asked in a most genteel manner.

Her cold stare answered him, halting him a few steps away. Her eyes scanned over him in the awkward silence before her eyes met his.

"Should I be?" she retorted.

"You seemed upset leaving the briefing with Lord Yosho," he said.

Nagi could hear the concern in his words. While she did not conduct herself as a lady like Ayeka or Sasami, the huntress was taught some of the customs and etiquette of Jurai. Chivalry would dictate a young man to console a young woman after an insult. Kamidake came of age in the first court of Jurai and was likely a consummate warrior and gentleman.

"I realize the Terran hunter's words were insulting to you…"

With a scowl, she answered, "What would you know of it, knight?" She had her hapless target, and the venom in her words would not be denied. "You who were raised by nobility, honored and revered… what would you know?"

Then, she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. A chill rushed through her as he spoke softly to her, understandingly.

"I know what it is to be a stranger in one's own home, to come back after everything has changed."

Nagi knew the story. Kamidake and Azaka fought alongside the first Jurai king against a great threat to the empire. After the great battle was won, both were sealed away in the Sacred Place until another menace arose. Millennia passed before the pair were awakened by Katsuhito to help topple Kagato's coup d'etat. Everyone they knew had long since died. Many of the customs had changed. The empire had grown far larger. No doubt, the knight had felt much the same way she did now.

"Skill and reverence, as well as time, can isolate as much as shame and prejudice, Lady Nagi."

Her scarlet eyes rose to meet the lavender of his, but they grew cold as she slapped his hand away.

"Get your hand off of me!" she barked. "I'm not some wilting flower like these regal ladies on the floor! I don't_ need_ your sympathy, let alone _want_ it!"

Taken aback, Kamidake lowered his eyes and took a step away. Respectfully, he bowed to her, his words apologetic and just as genteel.

"Very well, Lady Nagi… My most sincere apologies for making such an assumption…"

Quietly, he rose and turned away, leaving her in peace. The huntress's eyes also lowered as her fists gathered at her sides. Venting her frustrations on this good man helped nothing, not even really relieve her concerns.

_Stupid_, she berated herself.

Spinning back toward the terrace, she admitted to herself that his kind manner took her off-guard. She was far more accustomed to men underestimating or fearing her, rather than speaking in such a respectful and sympathetic way. Gazing out at the groves of Jurai, she wanted to shake the incident from her mind and refocus on the battle to come.

Naturally, Ryoko had other plans.

"You're a moron," the former pirate said loudly across the ballroom. "You know that, Nagi?"

The purple-maned woman scowled as she peered back to see her half-sister floating over the fallen Juraians.

_I don't need this right now_, she thought.

"What do you want, Ryoko?" she answered icily.

"When a guy like that talks nice to you, you should let him," the Ryoan answered, her feet touching the floor near her sibling.

Irritation boiled within Nagi. She could feel her cheeks burning, thankfully cloaked by the darkness of the chamber.

"What concern is it of yours?"

Abusing her levitation ability, Ryoko just reclined slightly in midair, folding her legs under her and resting her chin on her hand.

"I _am_ your big sister."

How that stung. Nagi felt her whole body tense, her breath hiss between her teeth. She hated that Ryoan blood in her veins. It tore her father away. It linked her to a world of criminals. It made her despised and pitied. She rejected it, all it offered, even this sibling standing with her.

"I don't acknowledge any kinship with _you_."

Ryoko just rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, her head shaking.

"God, no wonder we hated each other for so long…"

Frigidly, the huntress spoke, "We still have unfinished business, Ryoko."

"What?" the cyan-haired woman answered. "I'm not breaking laws anymore, bringing 'disgrace' to your 'good' name."

"You've done enough already."

Seriously, Ryoko extended her legs to the floor and walked toward her sister. Nagi could see the playfulness melt away from her enemy's amber eyes. This woman standing before her was not the drunken criminal she had sought for years. Those eyes read differently, no longer with desperate or malicious intent. They spoke of solitude and loneliness, familiar again.

"What does that have to do with _you_? _I_ didn't take you from your dad's house. _I_ didn't force Mom to leave your dad."

_She doesn't get it_, Nagi thought. _How could she?_

"No, but your mother's blood was the cause," she retorted as the pair began to circle one another slowly, their eyes locked. "Your crimes only worsen the fact."

Ryoko stopped, her hands sliding to her hips. Her eyes narrowed, and her teeth gnashed. The huntress knew that insulted feeling, the same she experienced when someone spoke poorly of her father.

"It takes _two_ to tango, _Sis_. _Your dad_ had as much to do with you being born as Mom did."

And, that emotion flared brightly in the huntress, her eyes burning crimson as she halted and faced her old foe.

"Don't call me 'Sis'," she said quietly, the words sour in her mouth.

Then, Ryoko's eyes blinked, her head cocking slightly to the side. A smile grew along her lips just before she started laughing, so hard that she had to brace her hands on her sides. Nagi only grew more irate as her eyes narrowed, her voice seething.

"What's so funny, Ryoko?"

"I get it now!" the Ryoan answered, calming her laughter to a chuckle.

"What?"

"You're _jealous_!" the former pirate burst with another short guffaw.

"Jealous?!" Nagi recoiled, completely unprepared, dumbfounded. The notion was foreign, repulsive, that she would or could envy this vain, lazy, deplorable woman standing before her.

"Yeah," the elder sibling explained, circling her old nemesis again. "_I've_ had the wild life, with _you_ chasing behind. _I've_ now got a nice home on Earth, and _you_ don't, _Sis_."

As the initial shock ebbed, Nagi's mind considered the implication, that all her desire to fight and defeat Ryoko was just her own jealousy, sibling rivalry. Her motives flew through her thoughts: revenge, justice, honor. She wanted revenge for losing her father, but Ryoko had no active part in that. She wanted to bring this brigand to justice, but she has been pardoned, forgiven. She wanted to restore her family's honor, but almost no one knew they were related. In light of the past few hours, all those reasons collapsed.

Then, Ryoko added, "Instead of chasing after _my_ life, why don't you get _your own_," before leaning closer and whispering, "maybe your own _man_?"

"Shut your mouth!" Nagi barked back.

Despite the sense that the elder sister spoke, she always seemed to temper it with insult. Still chuckling to herself, the cyan-maned woman spun away and sighed to herself. The huntress folded her arms and stood firm at the doorway, watching her old foe lean against the terrace's handrail. The Ryoan's hair seemed so pale in the moonlight, much like a ghost or spirit, just like her name.

"You remember a couple years ago," Ryoko asked, "right before Tenchi took Kagato down?"

"I do. What of it?"

"I've always wondered why you helped us then."

_Wasn't it obvious?_ Nagi thought. _Isn't it more obvious now?_

"Ken-Ohki wouldn't let Ryo-Ohki fight alone. Then, there was the fact that Kagato could very well come for Father."

"If you say so," the other answered in a huff, with a grin crossing her lips.

The purple-haired woman joined her sister's side and met her gaze cooly, her irritation simmering.

"Do you imply that my decision had something to do with you?"

"No, not at all," Ryoko answered as her smile widened. "But, _you_ did just now."

_Hardly!_ the half-Juraian thought, a sneer crossing her lips. _I wanted your head for myself, Ryoko, no other reason. Why can't you understand that?_

Ryoko glanced at the floor for a moment, her smile fading away. Again, Nagi could see that loneliness in her sister's eyes, hear it in her voice.

"You are my sister, Nagi," she said, "whether you like it or not."

That was the truth of the matter, despite the huntress's vehement denials. They were similar, too similar. Perhaps that was why Nagi despised Ryoko, knowing that only a few changes in circumstances would reverse their standing.

_Or, do I envy her position?_

Ryoko faced her sister in the moon's luminance, adding, "If you want, we can settle our old score after we deal with Jezibel."

She spoke with no hesitation, no fear, no bravado. The former pirate was genuine in her promise. To Nagi, this was strange. They had only ever spoken to one another over crossed swords or with threats. This, their longest conversation, painted a different picture of the sibling the huntress so hated. For a moment, she considered waiving this offer.

_Still_, she thought, _it is matter to be sorted, after the witch._

"Agreed," Nagi spoke aloud.

A swift displacement of air drew their attention toward the ballroom. There, two mechanical figures stood, their heads rising to target the two sisters. Both were cast in a female form, but their blue steel construction had sharp edges, corrugated plating, unrefined, rushed to completion. Their eyes glowed a bright red, cold, emotionless, puppets.

With only a moment's hesitation, Ryoko's hand gripped her scarlet katana, and Nagi drew her saffron rapier. Side by side, the pair readied to defend themselves while a voice arose from the two machines. Both knew the speaker, the same who had recently invaded their minds, stolen their most private thoughts.

"Ah, I see the blast wave also ignored you, _Lady_ Nagi, as well as your dear sister."

Jezibel Kimitan's voice licked at the huntress's ear like a serpent's tongue. She remembered how this woman had twisted her mother's words, tempted her with her heart's desire for vengeance and justice. Every word came smoothly, lusciously. The witch could elicit a man to murder his beloved, or entrance him into a private hell with no reprieve.

"Must be that fiery Ryoan blood in your veins."

Nagi's fist gripped her sword tightly. Her rivalry with Ryoko paled with the hate she felt for this vile creature. The Kimitan woman played with her memories, twisted her heart, and aided in the fall of Jurai, including her father.

"I will see _your_ blood soon enough, witch," the huntress swore.

"Still 'daddy's little girl', I see," Jezibel huffed. "Nice that…"

"Why don't you just shut up," Ryoko interrupted, her hand on her hip, "so we can kick your ass?"

Admittedly, Nagi cracked a small grin at her sibling's words. Though she remained silent, she seconded the sentiment, poised to strike.

"Very well," Jezibel laughed through the hollow machines.

The hands of the gynoids ignited with black flame as they rushed at the sisters. Ryoko vanished in a whoosh of air while Nagi just stepped aside and severed the arm of the closest machine. However, Jezibel continued laughing, amused as metal tendrils sprouted from the wound and dug into the missing appendage. Within a moment, the arm was reattached and functional once again, the damage sealing itself shut.

"Dammit!" Ryoko cursed when she reappeared at Nagi's side. "These bitches regenerate just like the original!"

"Lovely feature," the huntress commented, cautiously observing their opponents.

"Just come quietly," Jezibel offered. "It would make this far simpler."

"Go to hell!" Ryoko spouted.

"Not happening, Kimitan," Nagi echoed.

The metal females turned to face the sisters again, the obsidian flames flaring around their clawed fingertips.

"Excellent," Jezibel hissed, pleased.

One gynoid darted at them, spurring both to leap into the air. The other machine shot upward at Ryoko, who deftly slid aside to avoid it. Nagi's foot briefly touched a tabletop before she leapt at her sister's foe and drew her violet whip. The shimmering lash snapped across the robot's chest, scorching a gash into the chassis before a burst of energy flew from her sword's tip through the chest of the machine.

While Ryoko engaged the unharmed gynoid, Nagi hovered for a moment, watching their first victim land and regenerate its armor. Battling these machines would not be easy. Even the detonation of a Ryoan blade proved insufficient to disable one of these devices permanently. The sisters landed together and backed away, weapons ready, hearing the cackles of the Kimitan witch from the vocal systems of each robot.

"What a great display of your skills, but witness how little they matter."

The sisters stood back to back, each eying one of their foes when another voice called from across the room.

"Stand down, machines!"

Nagi blinked in surprise when she saw Kamidake swinging his staff into his hands.

_He came back?_ she questioned herself.

"… Another unexpected interruption…" Jezibel remarked, annoyed.

The enemy opposite Ryoko swung its arm toward Kamidake, the plating of its palm shifting open, the black flame growing stronger.

"Kamidake!" Nagi called out.

Distracted, she did not see the other figure rush at her, the flames dispersing from its hand. She reacted too late when it grasped her whip and hand, immobilizing them. Her blade did manage to pierce its side before she was slammed into the opposing wall.

Nagi struggled against her captor, kicking, twisting her blade, all to no avail while the other machine eluded her sister and the knight, vanishing from sight.

"Release her!" Kamidake ordered, advancing toward them.

However, Nagi and the machine faded from their sight, reappearing in the colonnaded corridor upon the enemy's command ship. Emerald light highlighted the columns around the chamber, as well as her features while she fought to free herself. Drawing her sword from her captor, the other machine grabbed her sword hand, the two restraining both her arms, holding her fast.

_Stupid!_ she berated herself.

Jezibel's laugh resounded off the stone-like walls of the room, sickening the huntress's stomach. She had already felt the witch dig through her memories once and had no desire for a second taste. In the darkness, she saw two green eyes open slyly, devious and vile.

"'Nearby, another figure struck the Enemy'," Jezibel quoted.

As the villainess walked into the dim light, Nagi could see the vile, delighted expression on her enemy's face. Jezibel Kimitan dressed closer to an academic or noble than a warrior. She wore a sleek, split gown and cloak, cut low around her bosom, which was more appropriate for seducing a drunken man than fighting the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. Her fiery red hair was teased up with a patch dyed orange to elicit a better comparison to flames. This woman manipulated, plotted, enjoying every moment of torment she created within her victims. Nagi knew this firsthand, and was disgusted by her presence.

"'In his right hand burned the Light,'" she read from a data tablet in her hands, "'but his left was consumed by the Dark. I asked my protector who he was, and the answer was'…"

With a twisted smile, she raised the tablet at her side as her eyes slid to Nagi's.

"… 'the Child of the War.' From the journals of Queen Jurai Achi, the very same that Liaens kidnapped all those ages ago."

Nagi watched as Jezibel set the tablet against her belt, where it attached with a soft click. The huntress kept her breathing calm and paced, eyes on her opponent, observing her body language, her weaknesses.

_Arrogant, prideful_, she analyzed. _Image-conscious, controlling._

"And you, a child of a Ryoan and a Juraian, the two factions from the great war between their empires…"

_Deface her. Hurt her image. Show her that she has no control._

In a few strides, she stood before Nagi and quickly grasped the huntress's chin in her hand. Nagi struggled, but the gynoids held her fast while Jezibel's smile widened, pleased.

"You even hovered in the air," she whispered, "just like your dear sister."

Fluid flew from Nagi's lips and splattered across Jezibel's face, causing her to recoil backward in surprise and repulsion. The telepath's confident and pleased smile eroded away to a raging scowl as she wipes the spittle from her skin.

"How _dare_ you…!"

The huntress merely licked and rubbed her lips together, cleaning her appearance, her eyes never leaving Jezibel.

_Get mad_, Nagi thought. _Make a mistake._

"You _mongrel bitch_!" Jezibel threatened angrily, her teeth bared. "I could erase your mind with a _thought_!"

"Then, do it," the purple-maned woman answered, cooly, calculatingly.

The enemy glared hatefully while Nagi just leveled her gaze back, repeating her ultimatum.

"Do it if I infuriate you so much."

This tactic was a gamble, but as the huntress waited, she did not feel the thoughts and taunts of the telepath seeping into her mind. Impotently, Jezibel's fists gathered at her sides, frustration joining the rage already twisting the enemy's face.

"You can't. If it was that easy, you would have taken my mind when I first got here," Nagi reasoned before she added, "And, if you wanted us dead, you would have done it already as well."

The sneer faded from the opponent's face. She wanted something from them, both Ryoko and Nagi, something that necessitated them both being alive, though perhaps without their free will.

"What do you want from us?"

Icily, Jezibel softly ordered her two guards, "Release her."

Once released, Nagi slid back a few steps, flexing her fingers around her rapier and whip, readying herself. The two gynoids drifted to the edges of the room, facing one another, leaving their mistress to her guest.

"I want to stop you both, Nagi, to prevent what you will soon do."

"If so," the huntress answered, confused, "why not simply kill us?"

"If it were my choice," Jezibel mused, humored, her twisted grin returning, growing with each word, "I would have murdered your both, and taken that lovely prince and handsome knight for myself."

_Sick creature_, Nagi thought as a slight scowl crossed her own brow.

"So, you're not the mastermind here, nor is Liaens. Then, who is?"

"If you only knew…" Jezibel laughed to herself.

"Enlighten me."

The telepath shook her head, answering, "_She'd_ much rather explain it to you _herself_."

However, her laughs fell silent when a shot of violet left Nagi's blade.

"That was not a request," she retorted icily.

"You certainly were raised by the Jurai royal family," the opponent commented, her displeasure becoming more palpable. "Only they are so arrogant and still retain their dignity."

"Tell me who pulls your strings," Nagi demanded one last time as she leveled her weapon for a second shot at Jezibel's chest, "before I cut them."

The telepath's eyes glowed a brighter emerald, as did her fingertip. She twirled her finger slowly in the air, taunting.

"Then _do it_, if _I_ infuriate _you_ so much," she mocked.

_Let's see how well you fight_, Nagi thought as she let another bolt fly from her rapier's tip, directly at Jezibel's heart.

However, the villainess stepped aside effortlessly, the shot passing her harmlessly. Surprised and confused, Nagi fired again twice more, but the telepath simply laughed as she dodged these blasts just as easily. The huntress was dumbfounded while Jezibel gathered an orb of greenish light to her hand.

"You _think_ ahead too much, _mongrel_."

She threw this energy construct at Nagi, who lashed it aside with her whip.

_Anticipation_, the purple-maned warrior thought. _She's reading my anticipation, my surface thoughts._

"This will be most… _fun_," Jezibel commented, levitating and gathering a second orb.

After a moment, the telepath darted directly at the huntress. Just as Nagi thought to dodge and snap her whip at her opponent, the emerald-eyed fiend slid away from the lash and lobbed her energy pulse exactly where Nagi was stepping. Reacting, the half-Ryoan leapt into the air to avoid the impact. Gliding to the side, she escaped the dust cloud of the blast, and heard her opponent's laugh rising from behind the cloud. She saw the green eyes glowing first before the telepath slid forward, her feet a few centimeters from the floor.

"Nice reflexes, and use of that dark Ryoan power latent in your veins."

_She's prodding me,_ Nagi reasoned as her teeth gnashed. _She wants me angry, on the defensive._

"Not that you like it that much."

The dust settled, revealing Jezibel standing with her arms folded, unprepared, yet with her twisted smile. Nagi glared back coldly, again analyzing her foe for weaknesses, but the telepath chuckled once more.

"Care to try those ideas of yours, _Lady_ Nagi?"

"I'm no _lady_," she answered, her weapons held firmly.

The huntress flew forward, attacking with every combination attack she had devised and been taught between her whip and rapier. Each time, the telepath dodged effortlessly to the side, barely escaping. Jezibel was playing with her, pushing her frustration higher. Occasionally, the vile woman would lob a pulse of greenish light where Nagi thought to slide. Reacting, she would leap or hover around the impact, drawing her cape around her to deflect the debris.

_Damn her_, Nagi thought. _She'll keep at this until I wear down._

Jezibel just grinned to herself, rushing at Nagi once again. However, after dodging the whip, the telepath's attention was pulled aside. Sighting the opportunity, the purple-maned woman leapt forward, drawing her sword to strike. Her opponent caught a glimpse of the blade and spun away from the huntress.

But, this time, she did not leave unscathed. The saffron rapier left a bloody gash in the cloak and shoulder of the green-eyed fiend. Nagi landed and turned to her foe, ready to strike again. Jezibel held her arm, tensing at the wound, hissing pain through her teeth. Seeing the blood, her pleased smile corroded into a hateful scowl, her eyes rising to meet those of her prey.

"I'll deal with you in a moment."

"I think not," Nagi retorted.

She launched forward, but a motion at her side spurred her to dart upward to avoid it. Looking to the side, she saw one of the gynoids with its arm extended, burning with black flame.

"Unit One, defend me," Jezibel ordered, her eyes burning a deep emerald toward Nagi. "I have business elsewhere."

Nagi landed carefully as the robot stepped between the two women.

"Confirmed, mistress," the simulated voice answered.

_She's accessing someone_, Nagi reasoned, watching Jezibel's gaze grow distant. _She's weak._ However, glancing to the robot, she gnashed her teeth and added, _If only this machine wasn't in my way…_

The huntress snapped her whip at the machine, which blocked with its arms, both enveloped in the dark fire. The purple lash wrapped around its left arm as she pulled, forcing it off-balance. At this, Nagi lunged forward with her blade, but the gynoid rolled to avoid the thrust. However, this only tightened the energy cord around its arm. With another pull, the unit was forced to stand, though it clawed at the lash and severed the beam. Before it could resume its attack, Nagi flew forward, her sword clashing against its cross-arm block. With a crack, her whip wrapped around its leg and pulled its foot forward, toppling it backward. Then, the coup d'grace followed, a thrust directly into its chest.

From the wound, more black flame hissed free while the machine flailed and jerked in some mechanical agony. Coldly, Nagi pulled her weapon free and returned her attention to Jezibel, whose eyes dimmed, returning to their normal state. With a scoff, the telepath grinned and applauded the huntress's victory.

"Brava, bastard child. You've damaged one of them."

Nagi glanced back to the machine, noticing its tendrils already repairing its chassis. However, the cracks did not completely seal, and black fire still licked at the edges of those wounds from within.

_More severely than it can repair_, she noted to herself.

Yet, her main focus remained on Jezibel as she leveled her sword and said, "Your business is with me, bitch."

_I'll have take her quickly_, Nagi schemed. _If she's threatened, she'll call these damned things on me again._

As she began to concoct her attack, the telepath's eyes glowed a subtle green again, and her smirk curled along her lips.

"A new tactic? You don't rightly believe it will work, do you?"

A blast rocked the room, a doorway punched open by scarlet, crimson, and violet light. While Jezibel staggered from the impact, Nagi turned to see Ryoko, Kamidake, and both cabbits rush to her sides. The huntress grinned to herself and glanced to her impromptu allies.

"Took you long enough," she commented sarcastically.

"You always were slow at finishing the job," Ryoko quipped back.

Kamidake's voice was softer and more grave than the sisters as he said, "Are you injured, Lady Nagi?"

"I'm fine," she answered before motioning to the wounded telepath. "She's not."

Jezibel scowled in return while Ryoko cracked her knuckles, quite ready for her part in this battle. Kamidake raised his staff and aimed its headpiece at the villainess, his fingers adjusting their grip.

"Jezibel Kimitan, yield and surrender."

She replied simply, "Units, attack."

Unit One, the damaged gynoid closest to Nagi, reached for her leg, but she stepped aside and sliced through its hand. Kamidake then knocked the mangled machine across the room with the blunt end of his staff. The remaining robot, Unit Two, awoke and rushed the allied group, its claws aflame with darkness. The knight leveled his staff before him, his eyes set on this new threat.

"I will take this one," he said before dashing at his opponent.

Ryoko formed her crimson katana and glanced toward Unit One, rising back to its feet, before turning her attention to Jezibel. Nagi, however, kept her focus on Jezibel.

_You can read my surface thoughts, witch_, the purple-maned huntress thought. _You will pay for what you've done here._

The telepath sneered while Nagi stated to her sister with certainty, "Jezibel's mine."

"_Ours_, sis," Ryoko corrected with a grin. "Save me a piece."

"Then, hurry, Ryoko," the younger sister answered as they raised their swords at their respective opponents. "And, don't call me '_sis_'."

The pair shot into the air at their adversaries. Engaging the telepath once again, Nagi's initial strikes with her whip and sword were avoided as before, but in the fray, Jezibel winced as her cloak fluttered over her open wound. The emerald glow in her eyes dimmed, giving the huntress her opening. Her whip snapped around the villainess's neck, and her next strike dove from above. Jezibel's green power gathered in her palm before tossing the power at her attacker. However, an obvious counter was easily redirected by the half-blood woman.

Landing a distance away, Nagi pulled on her whip, forcing Jezibel off her balance and to catch herself unceremoniously on the floor. Another tug made the telepath look up toward her opponent, though with a furious and hateful sneer.

"Not used to pain, master telepath?" the huntress mused.

Jezibel's hand flared with emerald light and shredded through the whip's bond. As she rose, her face was written with hate, spite, and embarrassment.

"Shut your mouth," her words boiled, no taunts, no pride, only deadly intent.

Nagi slid into an offensive posture, her sword leveled at her foe.

"Let's see how well you do without your foresight."

The huntress leapt at her foe, her feet flying just above the floor. Jezibel floated backward, both her hands glowing with her power. She dodged the first sword strike, but Nagi spun, letting her whip fly and snap across the telepath's chest. The villainess cried out while the half-blood woman completed her rotation, thrusting her sword at her enemy's chest. Jezibel's shimmering claws grasped onto the blade and diverted it to cut along her other shoulder, issuing another hiss of pain.

As the huntress followed her weapon forward, her opponent reached to rake those vile talons of light at her back. However, Nagi rolled aside and back to her feet, immediately lunging with another sword thrust. Unprepared, Jezibel leapt back to regain distance.

_Outside of the mind-scape_, Nagi thought, _you are nothing, 'master telepath'._

She swiped and thrusted at Jezibel, who had increasing difficulty in dodging, many times resorting to her hands to block and divert.

_I will see you dead, Jezibel Kimitan._

Ultimately, Nagi's sword clashed against Jezibel's hands once more, and the huntress slid away, cracking her whip around her foe's waist. Pulling on the line, the telepath was jerked forward, right to where Nagi prepared to thrust. As Jezibel blocked with her left hand, the half-blood woman just caught a glimpse of her enemy's right, energy pooled, ready to be released. Nagi turned her head to the side, but the blast caught her temple, knocking the purple hairband from her head.

While her hairband clattered to the floor, its housing cracked, Nagi rolled aside and collapsed, her vision askew, her senses dulled. She vaguely remembered her weapons falling from her hands and the calls of Ryoko and Kamidake. She felt Ryo-Ohki and Ken-Ohki rub against her hands and forearms, but could not remember hearing their concerned mews. Ken-Ohki's telepathic connection became a murmur, barely recognizable in her thoughts.

But, Nagi did recall when Ken-Ohki's mental voice suddenly became silent. She forced her eyes to focus, willing herself through this evident concussion. She could see Ryoko, Kamidake, and the cabbits all staggering, sick, disoriented. Across from them, Jezibel Kimitan's eyes blazed the deepest jade, her teeth gnashing, sweat rolling down her cheeks, the power gone from her hands, revealing cuts and lacerations from the recent exchange.

_I must move_, she ordered herself. _I _will_ move._

Close to her hand, she saw her hairband, its purple housing cracked and shattered. Her gaze centered on the crest embossed on its side, using it to help her focus. Her father gave her the item, their family heirloom, special, unique. Her fingers curled around it, gripping it tightly, its housing crumbling away. Beneath laid a vine-like structure, much like Tenchi's sword or Ayeka's tiara, the crest crystallized sap from a royal tree.

Touching the device, Nagi could feel a current flowing through her, connecting her to the Juraian artifact. She focused her will and pushed herself upward, her head unsteady, her feet unsure, held aloft by her desire to end her opponent. Her crimson eyes fell on Jezibel Kimitan, confused and surprised. The huntress felt the flow within her and directed it toward the newly revealed hairband key. Glowing a brilliant forest green, it wrapped around her hand snugly, its crest sparking a violet color.

Fear wiped across Jezibel's face, both at the key and at the regal color shimmering in Nagi's eyes.

"The _fifth_ key…?!" she whispered.

_'Nearby,'_ Nagi recalled in her hazed thoughts, _'another figure struck the enemy.'_

"'In his right hand burned the Light'…" she concluded when her key created a regal purple blade, thin and delicate, but quite deadly.

A second Mark of Rage scrawled down her right cheek, mirroring the one on her left, bringing a symmetry to her face. Jezibel's eyes lost their power as she began to shift her energies back to her hands, but in a single stroke, Nagi thrust her Juraian edge into Jezibel's abdomen. At that moment, a plume of emerald light radiated from the telepath's eyes, her life ebbing away. The huntress, however, tightened her grip on her weapon and drew her weapon to the side, cutting through her enemy's side, ending her.

The corpse collapsed while the green light shot away into the distance. Nagi likewise fell to her knees, her will spent, her forced focus waning. She could now feel the blood rolling down the side of her face. While her blade vanished, so did the mark on her right cheek, leaving its left-side kin.

She remembered slumping into someone's arms, but by then, her eyes had already closed. She felt Ken-Ohki perch himself on her shoulder, his worries streaming through her ebbing consciousness. With a soft sigh, she shook her head and reassured him.

"You stubborn-ass bounty hunter…" Ryoko huffed softly a distance away.

Nagi chuckled as she relaxed into the protective embrace around her. Rest was all she wanted now. The witch was dead by her hand, and that was satisfaction enough for now.

X X X

Jurai Nagi's crimson eyes opened coldly. Icy waters showered down over her head and shoulders from the waterfall above her, chilling her body throughout. Her hands were clasped below her chest, the fingers wed except for the index digits, which were aligned upward together. Standing ankle-deep in a natural pool below the falls, she steeled her resolve, refusing her desire to shiver and seek warmth. Dressed only in simple trousers and chest wrappings, the freezing waters cut deeply into her, each strand of muscle tightened.

A short distance away, Masaki Katsuhito also stood beneath another branch of the falls. Nagi could see him, sublimely breathing as the water's embrace seemed to consume him. Likewise dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, the legendary warrior seemed a statue against the hard flow pounding down upon him. His posture and hand position were flawless, well-practiced. None could doubt his mental focus or his physical prowess, least of all the huntress.

Nagi closed her eyes to refocus herself, to push the biting cold away. She flexed the muscles in her shoulders and thighs, wanting to be a pillar like the man opposite her. However, with every action, the cold grew deeper. Every attempt to warm herself was temporary, or served the reverse purpose. Her teeth gnashed together, and her breath hissed between them, despite her efforts to breathe through her nose.

Then, Katsuhito's eyes opened, and he stepped from the falls, calmly, purposefully.

"That's enough for today," he said.

Immediately, Nagi leapt from the icy pool and grabbed her shoulders, rubbing them quickly and firmly. Katsuhito, however, simply walked to a nearby boulder and took one of a pair of towels. The other he tossed to his pupil before he began to dry himself. She promptly wiped the offending droplets from her skin, though her chest wrappings and trousers were soaked and just as cold.

"You did well," the teacher commented as he wrapped the towel around his neck, "but you are wasting a lot of your body heat."

"It-t w-was f-freezing," Nagi retorted, her teeth chattering as she clutched the towel about her shoulders.

"All the more reason to keep the heat inside you," he added, resting his hand on his chest, "rather than yielding it to the water."

The purple-maned woman sighed softly and nodded. Every ritual was a lesson, a part of his Way. Sparring taught patience, timing, alertness. Kata taught technique, breathing, and flow. Physical endurances like this icy shower trained the body, weakening to strengthen. However, through the ordeal, the great man stood firm and unfazed.

_How could an 80-year-old man stand in an icy mountain waterfall and not leave shaking?_ she asked herself.

From the beginning, Nagi acknowledged that he would not openly tell her some reasons for his training. Admittedly, much of her skill at combat came from experience, not from formal education. Many questions she asked were answered only by "In time, it will be clear." That response came to grate against her, so she stopped inquiring.

_So long as I learn to control my powers,_ she reasoned.

Katsuhito glanced toward his apprentice. He knew well her present intent, to improve rapidly and surpass her sister. Ordinarily, he would encourage a rivalry between two students, much like he did with Tenchi and Ryoko months ago. However, unlike the flirting playfulness of the young couple, Nagi's designs were tainted with anger. That emotion and its dark kindred were no doubt the reason for her recent frustrations in practice. The onsen incident a week ago left her feeling wronged, and she wanted compensation.

"You won't change my mind," she stated clearly, her eyes sliding to meet his.

"I had no intention of doing so," he answered, slipping on his wooden sandals. "You and your sister should settle this matter for yourselves."

"_Half_-sister," she corrected, forcing her lips not to sneer as she did the same.

The master acknowledged this with a nod as he took his gi and hakama, folded on another boulder. The student did the same while her instructor turned to the path down the mountain.

"Let's get home," he said. "Sasami will have dinner ready soon."

Rubbing her shoulders, Nagi commented, "I'd like to take a shower before then."

"Then, we should hurry," the man answered before bursting into a run down the path.

The huntress scowled before rolling her eyes and running after him. Her muscles and bones ached from the cold eating into her. This first week of November had seen the temperatures dip lower, nearing freezing in the higher elevations. Standing in the icy runoff only made those numbers feel far worse.

As she ran after her instructor, Nagi thought about the past week since she and Ryoko destroyed the subspace onsen. Admittedly, both of them had been drinking, but the cyan-maned woman was spewing nonsense and slapped her across the face. However, Washu forbade both of them from enjoying the replacement onsen she was constructing. She has gone so far as to change the DNA recognition circuit on the door for both of them.

_I am not to blame here_, the purple-haired woman fumed.

While she stewed over this slight against her, the aches gradually disappeared in her run. Dodging roots and limbs, keeping pace with Katsuhito ahead of her, her muscles were warmed by the activity. Still, she struggled against this waning stiffness, pushing herself harder, wanting to pass her teacher. However, he kept a steady pace, followed an optimal path, avoiding most of the obstacles and pitfalls with minimal action. Though Nagi would certainly crush the old Juraian in a pure footrace, she was not able to overcome him here.

Then, her foot was caught, and the ground came rushing up toward her face. Swiftly, she raised her hands, stopping her face a few centimeters from the rocky terrain below. Her scowl only grew as she felt the abrasions along her palms, and looked down to the offending root around her ankle.

_If I'd been flying… _she thought frustratedly.

Temptation crept into her mind. She knew well how to fly and could easily dart back to the Masaki estate. The flight would only take a couple of minutes, and she could have a warm shower. It would be easy, practically effortless. However, this would break Katsuhito's edict against using her powers yet.

_What's the damned point?_ she contested. _I want to learn to control my powers and my key, not run through the woods!_

Her hands dug into the soil as she glared at the rocks, wrestling with the idea, the temptation, the cold seeping into her again from her wet clothes. She pushed back onto her heels, breathing slowly, carefully through her nose, calming herself. Finally, she stepped around the root before continuing the run.

_If I break his rules_, she reasoned, _he won't teach me._

Soon, Nagi reached the front door to the Masaki house and entered the premises. The warm air starkly contrasted the chilling clothing on her skin. She quickly rid herself of her shoes and donned some indoor slippers before scaling the stairs toward the bathroom. Much to her displeasure, steam and the sounds of falling water seeped outside. Frustrated, she slammed her fist into the wall next to the door and stormed to her room.

_Ryoko preening herself, no doubt_, she boiled.

Her room had originally been Nobuyuki's, but with rooms coming short in supply, Washu offered her offices for extra bedding. Nagi promptly declined, citing the good doctor's questionable motives, so the widower took the offer himself. He had moved all his furniture from the room before she first arrived, and she has since decorated it in her own spartan fashion. Her boxes still stood piled along the walls, but they had drawers, which functioned much like a clothes chest. Her bedroll was curled in a corner beneath a low loft, where she would find herself sitting and gazing out the small window at the lake. Nearby was a small bed, certainly Ken-Ohki's by the few stray hairs of white. On the desk rested several files on her current bounty targets, many referred from the GP from the letterhead.

Close to these stood a framed picture, a little torn and slightly faded, of Nagi's father, Jurai Tensho. In the image, he was visibly younger, his hair lacking the graying streaks and his face the recent lines of aging. His black hair was shorter around his face and styled to stand away from his face, look more common with young officers. However, his tan-colored eyes had a distant gaze to them, much like the somber smile on his face. On his brow rested a purple band, the same that she would wear as a hairband, and later realize was the fifth key of Jurai.

Shutting the door behind her, the huntress grabbed a towel from her one of her boxes and began drying herself. She unwrapped her chest and tossed the icy cloth away, quickly wiping away the cold moisture on her sensitive skin. Likewise, the trousers were thrown aside before the towel rubbed down her legs. After drying, she wrapped a blanket tight around her and fell into the desk chair, relaxing into its seat and the warmth shrouding her.

"Damn it all," she sighed as she rolled her head back, her eyes closing.

For a few peaceful moments, Nagi's mind cleared, and she simply enjoyed the warm feeling of her blanket and the silence of her room. Her body ached from the past few days' training, but that soreness ebbed as she rested alone. She melted into the chair, finally releasing the tension that she could not in practice. Her shoulders rolled, digging deeper into this comfortable feeling.

A ringing noise then broke her reverie. The huntress's familiar scowl crossed her eyes as she rolled her head forward, irritated once again. Her crimson eyes fell on a small device resting near the files, rectangular in shape with an illuminated keypad along its surface. Nagi had acquired it a couple years ago, this mobile communications unit, specially scrambled to prevent traces to her location. Above the item, a translucent panel was projected, displaying the Juraiji equivalent to "Incoming Call".

_Probably another clueless detective_, she thought.

Admittedly, Nagi was not as active as she had been in the past. The training with Katsuhito had been consuming much of her time, which had made her stellar apprehension rate drop. Living in the Masaki home, she had not contended with her usual transient life style, and its associated detriments. Much like Ryoko, the younger sibling had moved from job to job, hardly seeing beyond the next mission. Now, with her lowered presence, some GP detectives had taken the initiative to seek her out, much to her dismay.

Reaching forward, her fingers danced on the keypad, and the panel changed to read, "Caller: Jurai, Tensho". Surprised, her eyes blinked wider, not expecting this particular caller. With a keystroke, the panel shifted to a full image of the modern, middle-aged Jurai Tensho, complete with his age lines and longer, graying hair. Nagi bowed her head with her introduction.

"Father."

"Hello, my dear," he answered with a warm smile. "How are you?"

"Well, and yourself?"

"Managing. _Hi-Ryu_ is still moored on the throne-world for maneuvers." He grinned to himself as he added, "Admittedly, many of my men like the arrangement. They've been spending more time with their families."

His daughter raised a brow as she asked, "Are you eager to return to Ryua?"

"Part of me is," he accepted with a subtle nod, "though I have enjoyed being home again."

Nagi lowered her eyes, remembering the manor where Tensho raised her. Within the hollowed interior of a Juraian oak, the home rose easily three stories at the center of a grand estate stretching five square kilometers. From her bedroom there, the young girl could see a field of royal teardrops, planted by one of her ancestors, and a garden, surrounding a central fountain and rimmed by a stone walkway. Within her first home, numerous rooms stretched down a long hallway on the second floor, most of them empty. Each was elegantly decorated with hand-carved furniture, both from the enveloping tree and from external sources, the pieces all bearing a floral motif. The main hall had several portraits of the royal lineage, her family, each successor wearing the purple band around their forehead. As a child strolling through the corridor, the grandeur and history overwhelmed her, who now wore the hairband herself.

"How is the manor?" she asked distantly.

"It's a bit more dusty, I'm afraid," he chuckled to himself. "Many of the staff have moved on since we…" He stopped himself and corrected, "… I last regularly lived there."

She glanced up toward him again. "Do you plan to return there, permanently?"

"I'd like to," he replied kindly, "if I can get _Hi-Ryu_ posted to the throne-world again."

"That is possible now," she commented with a little brightness to her voice, "given the royal family's acknowledgement."

"True," the captain said with a smile, "though _you_ could claim it in my stead."

Tensho has asked this of her before, both after the reunion and after the Manhattan incident. Like any father, he wanted the best of his daughter: the best home, the best life. As a Juraian noble by birth, she could claim her familial estate and live on the throne-world like a lady of the court. She would be protected and respected, at least in theory.

However, the huntress knew better, as did he. While she has been officially acknowledged by the royal family, acceptance was another matter, and neither believed that Nagi would become a "regal lady". Thinking through the stories of her ancestors, most of them had broken some Juraian taboo at some point, whether speaking bluntly and overtly against the emperor or actively disobeying a royal edict. Her father's intimate relations with her Ryoan mother were not out of character for her family, though like those before him, he too was ostracized and shunned by the other branches. Nagi, though, would rather live off-world without her rank than live with it amongst those who shunned her.

"That's not my place, Father," Nagi sighed heavily.

"Well, I had to try," Tensho chuckled.

The purple-haired woman nodded and accepted this. Then, the officer closed his eyes and took a careful breath, his expression growing more serious.

"Nagi, you know why I've called."

"I do," she answered coldly, her eyes sliding from his. "The matter is between Ryoko and me, no one else. Lord Yosho has sanctioned the match."

"She's not your enemy," he stated plainly. "She is your sister."

"_Half_-sister," Nagi corrected, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Of all people, you know that best, father."

His brows twisted, concerned and also disappointed. Ryoko had been only an infant when he first became involved with her mother, and he remembered holding and feeding the cyan-haired child. He saw her learn to walk, heard her first words, and had hoped to become her father as well. However, this would never be realized. After Nagi was conceived, Jurai stepped forward and ordered this young family to be torn apart. Initially, Tensho would not stand for this affront, but the royal family's unrelenting edict weighed heavily on both him and his beloved. Finally, she made the choice for him, making an offer to the nobility to depart Jurai for Ryuten with Ryoko, to leave Nagi with Tensho. He hated himself, for not stopping her. He hated the branch families, for tearing his heart out of his chest. He hated everything, except his newborn daughter, who became his world.

"Nagi, _please_," he pleaded, "what will fighting her solve?"

"She is a _vulgar_ woman," the huntress hissed, "and she should be taught humility."

"There are many who would say the same of you, dear," he commented softly.

Smoldering hotly, her crimson eyes slid back to his, but he refused to relent.

"Is that it," he asked, "seeing yourself in her, and her in you?"

With a deep, long breath, Nagi answered, "I'm sorry, father. This is something I must do, for myself."

"Nagi," he sighed, "fighting her will change nothing. You both share your mother's blood. Neither of you can change that fact."

Her eyes lowered, narrowed. "I'm well-aware of that," she replied before her eyes rose back to his, hard and certain, adding, "but I _will_ defeat her, unequivocally and decisively."

Tensho massaged his forehead firmly. _She's just like her mother_, he thought frustratedly. _They both are._ He could see her in both of them: the stubbornness, the passion, even some of their tastes. This did warm part of his heart to know that the woman he loved lived still in her daughters, but it also frustrated him to have watched these two young women battle one another. Neither would yield, neither admit defeat. As stubborn as they were, as passionate about their rivalry, he genuinely doubted that the victory of either would alter their relationship at all. Still, he did not want to watch his beloved's daughters fight like this.

"Please, dear," he pleaded once more, "take time to reconsider this choice, and your reasons for it."

Respectfully, the daughter nodded and answered, "I will, father."

_Though, it will change nothing_, she thought.

X X X

Ryua Ryoko's amber eyes frowned with frustration. Again and again, she swung her weapons against her opponent, but each time, they were dodged or deflected. Her hands gripped tightly at each hilt while she spun, whirling attack after attack upon her foe.

Dressed in a white gi and red hakama, the Ryoan woman wielded a pair of bokken, each pounding against the single implement held by her opponent. Her cyan mane was tied behind her head into a bloom of spikes, clearly showing her elfin ears and the feline features of her eyes. Her nose flared when her foe braced his bokken in his free hand, letting both of hers slide along its edge impotently.

Her nemesis then swiped at her, forcing her to kick away and regather her defense. Masaki Tenchi rose against her, dressed in a white gi and blue hakama. As always, his raven-black hair was tied in a tail behind his head, though its length was greater than before. Cool and focused, the Juraian prince met her gaze as he held his weapon before him, both hands on the hilt.

In a moment, his blade dropped toward his right before he slid toward her, a slash approaching fast at her left. At once, her right sword crossed her body to meet his, while she swung the left down towards his collar. However, he knelt and rolled to her left, avoiding the strike entirely and rising back to his feet.

The two turned to face one another anew, and she rushed toward him, a scowl on her brow. The woman struck with her left, but the man deflected it. The Ryoan thrust with her right, and the Juraian dodged it. Their strikes accelerated, the cracks of their wooden weapons hammering a percussive beat to their dance.

With every missed strike, Ryoko's glare became harder, more frustrated, until Tenchi swept beside her and tagged her rear with the flat of his blade. At this, she threw her bokkens onto the ground forcefully.

"Dammit!" she cursed loudly. "This _isn't_ helping anything!"

Tenchi lowered his sword and approached her slowly. He had seen the frustration building, felt the tension and expended strength in each blow they exchanged. However, being Ryoko, she never said anything, though he had a fairly clear idea as to the cause. The onsen incident last week had infuriated her, and she needed some form of release.

Of course, being Tenchi, he had not pried, leaving her to stew over the matter and reveal it in her own time. Now, he could see the trouble this issue was causing her. In their last sparring match a week ago, she had held her ground against him, even laughing and flirting when he tagged her, or vice versa.

"Ryoko," he said as he rested his free hand on her shoulder, "talk to me. What's wrong?"

Her amber eyes turned to meet his, and for that moment, he could see the seething anger she was holding inside. However, she lowered her eyes from him, hiding that part of herself.

"It's nothing, Tenchi," she sighed as she folded her arms. "I'm just off today."

The prince dropped his bokken and walked before her, resting both his hands on her shoulders, his eyes looking directly at hers.

"Ryoko, please," he pleaded, concern on his words. "It's been bothering you for a week now."

Quietly, he waited while his girlfriend wrestled with herself. Since he has known her, Ryoko had never been adept at showing her true feelings. The cyan-maned fury would usually put forth a passionate bravado to mask whatever really motivated her. In the past month, he had actually seen more of her than he had in the past three years, as she began to open herself to him. The process had been slow, and she would slip back into her old ways. However, his patience had now begun to reward him.

"It's not fair, Tenchi," Ryoko grumbled, her golden eyes rising to his once again. "I did _nothing_ to start that fight, and _I_ get locked out of the onsen."

"What happened, Ryoko?" he asked carefully. "You two haven't exactly talked much since she moved here."

"We don't exactly mingle in the same 'circles'," she said sarcastically.

Sweat beaded in his hair as he agreed, "Fair enough, but you are sisters, right? You two do have some things in common."

"That was what I was _trying_ to tell her when she got pissed off," Ryoko retorted. "I was asking her how her training with your granddad was going."

"What did she say?"

"_Nothing_," she answered, rolling her eyes. "She was practically a brick wall."

"Then, what did you talk about?" the prince asked quizzically.

"What else?" the Ryoan rhetorically replied, her eyes sliding back to his knowingly. "Men."

Tenchi blushed at this while her hands glided from her arms and along his sides, holding him close. The pair had grown quite close in the past month, despite the young man's caveat not to rush into intimacy. He greatly enjoyed his time with her on their dates, as well as just laying on his bed, or hers. However, he did still find himself a bit self-conscious about some of the kisses and caresses, partially because of his inexperience in romance.

"Don't worry," Ryoko said with a sly grin on her lips. "I didn't tell her anything juicy."

"Well, thank you for that," he chuckled nervously, lightly scratching behind his head.

"She's clearly jealous," she purred, "even though I know a couple guys she could easily have if she wanted."

"Is that what you talked about?" he gulped, blushing still.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh, "until she slapped my sake out of my hand."

"Wait," Tenchi interjected, confused. "Why'd she do that?"

"Hell if I know!" she retorted. "Here I was, trying to help her out, and she starts bitching at me!"

The prince felt his stomach sink. In her piratical days, his girlfriend had broken numerous laws, sometimes with the best of intentions. On one such occasion, she robbed a Juraian bank to recuperate the money she had selfishly squandered when the household made its way to confront the usurper. However, her good intentions often were masked by her rash and shortsighted methods.

"And, how exactly were you going to help her?"

"I was hoping to set her up on a date," she said plainly, pushing a lock of hair aside her brow.

Tenchi was not prepared for that response. Immediately, his mind went blank wondering what man Ryoko could possibly pair with her half-sister, the cold-hearted and very violent bounty hunter.

"A date? With whom?"

"Well," the Ryoan woman started as she leaned closer and whispered softly into his ear, "Kamidake!"

His eyes popped open as he jerked back. "The _knight_ Kamidake?!" he blurted out.

"Yeah," she acknowledged with a devious sparkle to her eye, "I saw how he looks at her, and how she looks back."

Admittedly, Tenchi did not know the crimson knight very well, nor his azure partner. Both were great warriors from the first court of Jurai who had been sealed away after a great battle. Katsuhito had raised them to aid in defeating the usurper during the coup d'etat, and both had also participated in the defense of Jurai and Earth in the last few months. Of course, those all were quite stressful times, and Tenchi did not take the time to talk with either man at length.

However, as he thought back to the reunion on Jurai, Kamidake was present when Nagi's father revealed himself. He also volunteered to accompany Ryoko to the enemy's vessel to rescue the huntress. During the recent incident in Manhattan, Tenchi spent a significant amount of time in the infirmary from his wounds while protecting Ryoko, but later heard that Kamidake was likewise wounded, protecting Nagi.

"Still, Ryoko," Tenchi stammered, "he's a Juraian knight, and she's…"

"A bounty hunter," Ryoko completed for him. "So _what_, Tenchi? If they're interested, why don't they take a shot?"

"Well, isn't it a bit complicated," he asked, "him on Jurai and her here on Earth? And, doesn't Jurai have a lot of social classes?"

"To hell with society bullshit!" she barked back. "That didn't stop _me_ from going after _you_!"

Sweat beaded in Tenchi's hair as he said, "We also didn't know I was part Juraian until _after_ we met."

"Come on, Tenchi!" she sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Nagi's got a rod so far up her ass, that she can hardly bend over. Admit it. She could use someone to lighten her up."

"Is that how you suggested it to her?"

"More or less, yeah," the former pirate answered, glancing to the side.

He took a slow, deep breath and sighed, "No wonder she slapped your drink out of your hand." Gently, he cupped her cheek and said, "Ryoko, think about how Nagi sees all this. I remember what her dad said about how she was treated on Jurai."

"I don't think he'd do that to her," she muttered.

"No, I doubt he would," he admitted, "but I don't think that's how she heard it. I mean, if you think about it, her dating Kamidake wouldn't be that different from her dad dating your mom. And, she's very sensitive about that."

Tenchi could see the realization in Ryoko's amber eyes. She knew now what she had said to spark the fight, as well-meaning or light-hearted as it had been. For a moment, guilt crept into her face. Since the reunion, since learning of her connection to Nagi, Ryoko had shown genuine concern for her sibling, in her own way.

Then, her brows furrowed, her eyes closing with a heavy breath. He could feel her tense in his arms, feel the anger starting to flow off of her as she thought back to the incident in the onsen.

"That still doesn't excuse what she said."

Worried, he asked the obvious question, "What did she say?"

"… That I was sleeping with you…"

"That's… never bothered you before…" he said with a bit of blush to his cheeks.

"… I know, Tenchi," she whispered, her eyes turning back to his, "but it's different now…"

The prince saw it again, guilt, heavy guilt. Truthfully, Tenchi did not yet have the skill his grandfather did at reading people, but he had learned well. The young man's main flaw was not gullibility, but rather his trusting nature. However, living with Ryoko for three years has taught him to be less so, particularly with someone who is adept at lying, and omission.

Yet, his concern for her tempered his response. Her anger was very real, unlike than the facades she has worn before. Whatever was really said hurt her, enough to break her armistice with Nagi.

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer as he whispered, "Please, Ryoko, what did she say?"

Her teeth gnashed as she fought the answer that passed from her lips. "… That I slept with you… while _Ayeka_ was here…"

Chills rushed through him, and his heart sank deep into his chest. He could feel the same guilt clawing its way into his chest as she did. Dumbfounded, words abandoned him.

"She said that _I_ was why she…" Ryoko whispered, her voice tainted with regret, anger, and frustration.

Tenchi and Ryoko had not discussed Ayeka since she left Earth. She told them all that she had to reflect on her life, to recover from what was done to her in Manhattan. Her words did hold truth in them, but all three of them knew a second, unspoken reason she wanted to leave.

"… _That_… was _too_ far, Tenchi," Ryoko hissed, "so I slapped her… and then we fought…"

The prince glanced aside, his emotions confused and in disarray. Like Ryoko, he was angry at Nagi for saying something so cruel, particularly to her own sister. He sympathized with the huntress some, considering Ryoko's own callous remarks.

But, his own regret and guilt seeped into his mind. His indecision was one of the pressures that had fueled the darkness that had been consuming Ayeka. His choice had broken her heart, allowing room for that shadow to overwhelm and nearly destroy her. Moreover, he could do nothing to undo what happened.

Gently, Tenchi stepped out of Ryoko's grasp and sat on a nearby log, his brown eyes set on the ground below silently. Ryoko followed and sat with him, her hands clasped in her lap as she glanced over to him, watching his lost expression.

"Tenchi, are you mad at me?" she asked.

Softly, he answered, "A little, yeah, at both of you."

She rested both of her hands on his knee and looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry, about what I said and the onsen."

"I know," he answered with a nod, "and I forgive you both."

Quiet passed between them while Tenchi continued to push through the haze of his feelings. Ryoko moved her hands back into her lap and lowered her eyes as well.

"It's Ayeka, isn't it?" she whispered somberly.

"Yes."

Her hands clasped tighter as all her fearful doubts leaked into her thoughts. Tenchi could hear the strain in her voice as she spoke to him.

"She's why you… don't want to…?"

He blinked and slowly turned to face her.

"Ryoko, no," he said softly, gently. "She's not why."

He could see tears at the edges of her eyes. While Ayeka lived in the Masaki estate, she and Ryoko definitely had had their differences, but in that time, they also shared a great deal. They watched the same shows, drank together, and hatched plans together. While neither would openly admit it, they did become friends, as well as rivals for the same man's affections.

"Do you love her, Tenchi?" the cyan-maned woman asked quietly, fearfully.

A knife went through his heart. He had cared for both of them, as well as all of the tenants who had come to reside in his home, even Nagi. Ryoko and Ayeka, however, were the two for whom he felt the strongest, but he knew what she meant now.

"Not like I love you, Ryoko, but I do care about her." His eyes lowered, shame in them, as he added, "I never wanted to hurt either of you… It's not your fault Ayeka left. It's mine."

The tears rolled down her face as he continued taking the blame for himself. "_I'm_ the one who said nothing. _I'm_ the one who led you both along. _I'm_ the one who broke her heart. It's _my_ fault."

He could feel his heart bleeding, tears rolling from his own eyes. "I _hurt_ her, someone I care about, so _why_ should I be happy?"

As the guilt welled in his heart, he felt her fingers gently caress his cheek and turn his face back to hers again. Her golden eyes met his, honestly, no deception.

"Because you're a _good_ man, Masaki Tenchi. You try so hard to make _everyone else_ happy. It's _your_ turn, time for you to be a little selfish."

She drew him closer until their lips touched, hers parting to join with his. For a moment, the couple shared a gentle kiss before their mouths separated, allowing their eyes to meet once more.

"I love you, Tenchi," she whispered softly. "Let me carry some of this blame with you."

Silently, he nodded as they slowly and warmly embraced one another.

X X X

Stillness surrounded the Masaki shrine as the sun's dying rays painted a golden hue over the forest. In a familiar clearing, Jurai Sasami sat beneath a great oak, Ryo-Ohki and Ken-Ohki resting in her lap. Dressed in an older kimono of her sister, the Juraian teenager stroked the pelt of each cabbit gently, evoking a rumbling purr from the furry creatures. Her rosy eyes somberly lifted to the well-trod ground before her, beaten flat and lifeless by years of martial practice. Today would be no different.

At her side, Hakubi Washu leaned against the tree, her arms folded as she waited. After her recent dealings with her colleagues at the Science Academy, the researcher rather welcomed a spectator sport. Admittedly, she also had personal interest in today's match, given that the participants destroyed one of her more enjoyable creations.

Near the center of the clearing, Masaki Katsuhito stood idly, waiting the two challengers to arrive. This match was inevitable, though he had hoped for more time to pacify the younger sister's fury. As both were his students at different times, he had accepted their match, provided they abided his conditions, the foremost of which had him as referee and judge. Truthfully, he was curious to see how the two would handle against one another in a fair contest: no special powers, no special weapons, only bokkens and their skills. In observing them, he could gauge how to adapt his curriculum from one to the other.

From his right, the elder sister entered the clearing, Ryua Ryoko. Around her shoulders, she wore a deep blue cloak, fastened near her neck with a circular broach. A relic of her piratical days before arriving on Earth, she thought it appropriate for her match with her half-sister, the feared bounty hunter. Similarly, her cyan spikes of hair were tied behind her head, much more practical for her current intent. Walking at her side was Masaki Tenchi, acting not only as her supportive boyfriend, but also as her second. Being the oldest of Katsuhito's students, Tenchi knew his stipulations and rules and had practiced with Ryoko regularly these last two weeks in preparing her. Together, Tenchi and Ryoko took their place to the legendary warrior's right, both bowing respectfully to him, to which he reciprocated in kind.

From Katsuhito's left, the younger sister arrived, Jurai Nagi. Her cape billowed around her while she stormed directly to her instructor and opponent. She stiffly bowed to them both, though her crimson gaze never left Ryoko's amber eyes. She heard Katsuhito's words distantly as he reviewed the rules for their match, accepting each with a slight nod. Her thoughts only craved swinging her weapon at her half-sister, not words.

On the referee's instruction, both women removed their cloaks, revealing the respective combat attire and weapon of each party. Ryoko once more was wrapped in scarlet flames, while her sibling kept to her preference for violet. At the hip of each warrior was a bokken, newly cut in identical designs, giving no advantage to either party. Next, they both removed their respective ethereal weapons, Ryoko her bracelet and Nagi her hairband. As agreed, neither would be using their innate energies for this match, so the items were unnecessary. The cyan-maned combatant handed her mantle and jewelry to Tenchi, who gave her a brief kiss and a few words of encouragement. In kind, the huntress offered her equipment to Katsuhito, who then passed them to Tenchi as well. She needed no encouragement. She would have beaten her sister before, if not for the selfish interference of Jurai Ayeka.

Tenchi bowed to his grandfather before joining Sasami and Washu on the sidelines. The cabbits raised their heads and mewed their support while the pair slid back and readied themselves. The scientist hummed softly to herself, eying each participant and the tension in her body. Nagi was certainly more strained, angry, but Ryoko seemed relaxed, calm. Sasami watched the two as they drew their swords and took their ready stances. Nagi's form was perfect, strong, but Ryoko's was looser, less powerful.

For a moment, the princess's vision blurred, and she saw two women, one in black and one in white, facing one another with silvery swords drawn in much the same way. Crimson and azure sparked from where their blades clashed when the first strike met, blinding the teen for a moment.

With a gasp, Sasami broke from her reverie, just as Katsuhito raised his hand between the two sisters.

Once his hand fell, Nagi rushed toward her opponent, her weapon already falling, slicing the air above her. Ryoko's eyes widened in the moment while her bokken rose to block, her sister's sliding off along the edge. Stepping aside swiftly, the cyan-maned woman cleared her foe and swung herself, but her little sister swiped just as quickly, clashing with her again.

However, the force of Nagi's blow knocked Ryoko's sword to the side, opening her guard. Luckily, the huntress's swing flew wide, giving the former pirate time to slide away and regather her defense before the next strike came. When the attack arrived, Ryoko stepped aside, her blade tapping her opponent's to the side, just deflecting the blow. All of Nagi's strength and momentum fell toward her half-sister in each assault, but the elder sibling glided away, directing the incoming aggression away.

Nagi's teeth ground beneath her lips, her scowl growing increasingly more heated and frustrated after each misdirection. She watched Ryoko's focus, her calm, her easy passage through every affront. Every strike was pushed aside like a satin curtain, effortlessly. This woman no longer feared the huntress, neither the desperate criminal nor the panicked prey.

After one last avoidance, Ryoko crouched and raked her foot along the ground under Nagi, rending her from her footing. As she toppled, the purple-haired warrior rolled to her side, soon recovering her feet before her sister could capitalize on the circumstance.

Now, the ex-pirate stole the offensive. She launched forward, her sword clashing time and again with Nagi's blade: high to the head, low toward the legs, mid-range toward the abdomen. Each time, the huntress blocked firmly, never yielding. The strikes were weaker, but far faster, searching for a vulnerability to exploit.

Ryoko could see the realization in her sister's eyes, the anger melting into caution. Her younger relative held her ground, despite the flurry of attacks, but no retaliation could be returned. The gaps between strikes shortened, pushing her, cornering her. This woman no longer intimidated the Ryoan, neither the dread huntress nor the apex predator.

The cyan-maned fury lastly struck once more, issuing all her momentum and might into the impact. As her opponent stumbled back, Ryoko leapt into the air and spun her weapon at her foe. However, Nagi tucked her shoulder and rolled away, leaving only air for her sister.

The two then faced each other once more, deeper breaths, sweat beading on their faces. Nagi licked her dried lips and took a slow breath, calming her beating heart a bit. Ryoko cracked her neck, her breath hissing softly between her teeth.

Washu's brows rose, interested. Of course, she had known the extent of Ryoko's original powers after her gratuitous use of them. However, seeing her fight with only her wits and a bokken actually impressed the scientist. Perhaps the tigress could change her stripes. Now, the genius focused on her opponent. How would she adapt? What would be her counter?

A knot hung in Tenchi's gut watching this match, concerned. True, his girlfriend had improved significantly, but she was still yet to master the style. He could see several of her weaknesses, and while Nagi lacked the same mastery, she had far more years of experience. He saw her crimson eyes narrow, tactically assessing her foe, the anger giving way to her training. She was far from defeated with that initial exchange. Of course, he did want to interfere as Ryoko's boyfriend, not that she would let him.

Katsuhito kept close to the action and observed the two carefully. He could certainly see Tenchi's influence in the way Ryoko wielded her blade, as well as how Nagi had let her emotions control her. Yet, like Tenchi, he saw the huntress's eyes shift. She had learned, if stubbornly, and now seemed to accept those lessons. Inwardly, he grinned and anticipated the next exchange.

While Ryo-Ohki and Ken-Ohki witnessed the battle quietly in Sasami's lap, the Juraian teenager held her arms closely. She had seen sparring matches between young men on Jurai. In particular, she and Ayeka often joined Juraihelm Ramia to watch the contests of her little brother, Rumiya. However, those matches were controlled, regulated. Though Sasami was not trained to fight herself, she could see the ferocity in Nagi's sword. She wanted to hurt Ryoko, her own sister. Unpleasant emotions boiled in Sasami's heart, familiar ones: sadness, anger, betrayal. She easily put herself into the cyan-maned woman's place, having her sister wish harm upon her.

Then, a chill rushed up her spine.

_Ayeka would never…_ she thought. _Why did I…?_

Before she could continue her thought, Ryoko and Nagi dashed at one another, their swords connecting with a loud crack of wood. Each turned their blade against the other's, leveraging their weight and strength against the other, looking to break the other's guard. Between their weapons, the sisters met gazes, drinking deeply of one another's focus and determination. Ryoko received the bitter, jaded spite that had welled in her younger sibling. Nagi felt the conflicted, uneasy affection that had grown in her elder relative.

The cyan-maned woman slid aside, raising her hilt for the huntress's blade to grind down and off hers. In that moment, the former pirate kicked her lead foot at her opponent, but the purple-tressed warrior spun away, swinging her weapon up at her foe's abdomen. The elder's bokken blocked this attack before she whipped around herself to strike once more. The younger denied the hit.

Tenchi and Katsuhito could both see the change. Both swords moved freely, clashing, blocking, striking. The pair became fluid, dancing around one another, circling each other, the cracks of their weapons growing softer and more constant. Ryoko's muscles tightened as her blows increased in strength. Nagi's shoulders loosened as her impacts became faster. The elder stood firm while the younger dodged. Each fed upon the other's strengths, adapting, mimicking, complementing, learning.

Finally, Nagi's kiai broke the monotonous impacts as she knocked Ryoko's bokken back, hers already flying down to strike again. The cyan-maned woman drew away, but the huntress was already on her, a second kiai focusing her breath, and her blade, through the elder's defense. The former pirate's weapon shattered into splinters, the broken edge spiraling aside and into the ground a distance away.

The purple-haired woman could see the surprise in her foe, hear the gasps of those watching. The moment held still. Victory stood before her, ready to be taken, after many years of chase and conflict. A smile spread across her lips while she savored drawing her weapon for the final blow.

Ryoko's golden eyes widened, but quickly met her sister's, seeing the rise of the weapon, the confidence.

Then, she saw the flaw.

Nagi's strike came fast and hard, all her energy, her frustration, her fury, directed solely at her sibling. Ryoko spun to the side, the blade barely missing her shoulder and back as she danced closely around the huntress. With all her force sent into her assault, Nagi could not react in time when Ryoko stood behind her, wrapping an arm around her neck, and edging the broken bokken to her temple.

Immediately, Katsuhito called for the match to end, whence the Ryoan released her little sister. Nagi collapsed to her knees, dumbfounded, her mind spinning from the final exchange, victory stolen from her so quickly. The wise Juraian announced the cyan-maned woman the clear victor, garnering applause from both Tenchi and Washu. Ken-Ohki hopped his way to his mistress's lap, mewing up to her, sending his condolences to her mind. Though Ryo-Ohki was pleased her mistress had won the match, she joined her white counterpart, nuzzling against Nagi's free hand.

The huntress closed her eyes, the realization finally filling her heart. Defeated, she was now honor-bound by the stipulations of the match. She must fulfill a single request of her sister.

Ryoko knelt at Nagi's side and smiled softly to herself, catching her breath. Gently, she tossed aside the broken hilt and offered her hand to her kin.

"Now, Sis," the former pirate spoke, "you're going to ask that handsome knight out on a date. Deal?"

Heavily, the huntress sighed with her nod, dropping her bokken and taking her sibling's hand.

"Dammit, fine."

Confused, Sasami's brows twisted at this brief conversation.

"Wait," she said. "This was all about Nagi dating a knight?"

A deep blush crossed the purple-tressed woman's face as Ryoko laughed, spurring a snort and chuckle from Washu as well. Sweat beaded and rolled down Tenchi's hair while Katsuhito just folded his arms, and grinned to himself.

X X X

Alone, Masaki Tenchi strode down from the shrine, reflecting on the recent match. Watching the sisters fight had reminded him greatly of his own sparring engagements with his grandfather, particularly the shattered bokken. Whenever the young man saw victory within sight, his mentor would do the very same maneuver to wreck his resolve. "Giving up already?" he would chuckle. Naturally, Tenchi did learn the counter move in the Juraian style, involving fighting with the hilt and broken blade.

However, Ryoko resourcefully switched to grappling instead when the legendary man had trained her. Both Katsuhito and Tenchi had been surprised at her solution to the problem, the younger never having considered it. The grandfather chuckled, pleased at her ingenuity and tenacity. No doubt, he had seen something similar in his experience, but had not expected it from her.

After the match, Nagi wandered quietly back to the house with Sasami and the cabbits consoling her loss, and asking about this "date with a knight". Washu trailed behind them, cackling to herself while she replaying the bout on her ethereal laptop. Ryoko shared a kiss with Tenchi before Katsuhito politely interrupted to pull him aside for some words. While her annoyance was certainly apparent, she relinquished her boyfriend for the moment.

Together, the two princes walked toward the shrine, far away from the earshot of the women. Once they entered the priest's office, Katsuhito broke the silence.

"Ryoko has improved a good bit since I last saw her."

"She has, Grandpa," Tenchi answered. "We've been preparing ever since the match was set."

Sagely, the great man nodded before he took a seat on the floor next to the window, his legs beneath him.

"And, Nagi's gotten better, I think," the young man added, sitting similarly across from his grandfather.

"She's a lot like her sister, talented but very stubborn."

"Yeah, I can only imagine," Tenchi chuckled.

With a kind smile, Katsuhito poured both of them a cup of tea, which the former student accepted respectfully.

"How are you and Ryoko getting along?"

"Pretty good, I guess," Tenchi blushed as he sipped his tea. "She really likes going out to clubs and dancing."

"She's a spirited woman, Tenchi," the nobleman commented plainly, "and she's matured since coming here. You should be proud to be with her."

Distantly, the younger fellow glanced to the side and nodded. "I am, Grandpa. She's great, and I love being with her, around her."

Watching him closely, the elder prince observed the changes in his heir: a tightness in his body, deeper breath, the long gaze. In training Tenchi and Ryoko between the reunion and the recently events in Manhattan, Katsuhito had witnessed the two growing closer firsthand. He knew well the heated gazes the two had exchanged when they believed him unaware. Ryoko, naturally, made little pretense to conceal her affections, though Tenchi had kept his feelings closely hidden then, for rather apparent reasons.

Though now openly affectionate, the legend's protege still held some of his feelings to himself, particularly the guilt that was bleeding into his voice and gaze.

"We've started talking some about taking a trip together, just us. I'm not sure yet, really."

Listening to Tenchi describe this proposed vacation, Katsuhito could feel the young man's apprehension. The priest had seen the source of his grandson's trouble and raised his sword to stop her. Honestly, he could see why the boy was so afflicted, as his growing passions had driven her farther down her ill-fated path, even if this was not his intention. The great man knew that feeling very well.

"What do you think, Grandpa? I mean, you know the galaxy far better than either of us."

"You should go," Katsuhito said plainly.

"Are you sure?" Tenchi questioned. "After all…"

"Tenchi," the elder gentleman interrupted, quieting the boy. "Do you love her?"

"Yes, I do," he answered without hesitation. "I just…"

"Then, you should put her first," the reply came again.

Tenchi turned back to his grandfather, their eyes meeting. Looking deep into his senior's sight, the young prince could see experience staring back, and a familiar feeling ringing in his voice.

"Your regrets are becoming doubts, Tenchi," he warned, "and they will devour you."

A somber expression crossed the young prince's face as he listened to the teacher's knowing words.

"You can't change what's happened, nor to whom it happened. Even if you could, I expect you know well that the effects could become very dangerous."

Tenchi thought about all the temporal troubles from his excursion to 1970 and the balancing act of finding and ending Kain to save Achika. He had thought briefly of using Washu's equipment to return to 1997 and spare Ayeka the corruption that followed. However, the more he considered the idea, he could not see how to rescue her without interfering with subsequent events. Earth, and perhaps Jurai, might have fallen without the power she gained through her torment.

Katsuhito rested his hand on his grandson's shoulder and added, "She has made her choice and is safe from harm. Let her go."

The young prince glanced down into his tea, looking at his reflection on its surface, his brows furrowed somberly.

"It feels wrong, Grandpa. She was so hurt."

"I know." The legendary warrior patted his protege's shoulder as he added, "She's a strong woman, though she might not realize it herself, and she is hardly alone."

Slowly, the boy's eyes rose back to his elder's as he continued, "She will heal, as will you. However, you have a woman here who loves you, and needs you."

Tenchi had acknowledged how Ryoko had changed often in the last two months, how she had matured. She thought more about the consequences of her actions and better controlled her passions, like in the match with her sister. As he just admitted, she now spoke with him about future plans together, wanting to spend her time with him. Recalling the time after Kagato's coup ended, he remembered how lonely he had been, his worry for her, and his elation when she returned. He now found it difficult to picture his life without her, and wondered about the reverse.

"You are no longer a boy, Tenchi," Katsuhito said, drawing his hand back and sipping his tea once more. "What you do now defines you as a man."

Thoughtfully, the young prince likewise sipped his tea. After a moment, he took a breath and asked knowingly, "What was her name, Grandpa?"

"Haruna," he answered softly.

"Care to tell me about her?"

Now an hour later, Tenchi descended along the path from the shrine and heard Ryoko's voice laughing aloud nearby. Quietly, he followed a narrow, recently blazed trail to find her kneeling next to a grave marker in a small, secluded clearing. Composed of a deep, glassy obsidian, the burial marker rose flush to the ground, inscribed with Juraian script translating as "Ryua Ryoshu".

"She never saw it coming!" she chuckled. "The 'unbeatable' bounty hunter was so focused she burned all that time to strike!" She scoffed and shook her head. "After all that, she _had_ to gloat!" Smirking, she added, "I guess since she's chased me so long, I shouldn't be too surprised. I wonder if she gets that from her old man. She certainly didn't get it from you."

Tenchi cleared his throat softly, drawing her attention back to him. Ryoko smiled widely and added, "Well, that's all I really needed to say, Mom. I think my man has finally finished with the taskmaster."

The prince bowed toward the gravestone with a soft apology for his interruption before she rose and hugged him close and tight.

"What took you so long?" she asked, stealing a kiss. "I had enough time to go tell her about the whole fight, among everything else."

"I'm sorry, Ryoko," he said apologetically. "He needed to talk to me about some shrine business. It took longer than I thought."

"Is he still trying to rope you into taking his place?" she queried, a brow lowered in annoyance.

"Yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his head lightly, "it's a big decision, and he's not really getting younger."

"Hey, he can get one of those guys from another shrine, right?"

Tenchi nodded. "Yeah, he could, but do you really want someone who doesn't know about what goes on here?"

For a moment, Ryoko's lips pursed in thought before she answered worriedly, "Okay, you have a point, but what about your art? You're starting to get good."

"Artists aren't really known for making lots of money, and I need to support the household somehow. Besides, I could draw in my off time."

She rested a finger on his forehead and poked a bit roughly. "That's _my_ time, Masaki Tenchi."

Sweat beaded in his hair as he grinned wryly. "Right, right…"

He glanced over to the gravestone, which presided over the final resting place of Ryua Ryoshu, mother to both Ryoko and Nagi. Tenchi had met her, in a sense, nearly three months ago in Manhattan. Just after he confessed his love for Ryoko, the beautiful figure of Ryoshu stepped out from the black fire of the NVO distortion. Her spiked, fallow hair fell in a long tail to her ankles, fanning at its end. Though her red and black gown blended into the shadows around her, he could discern her figure, which seemed voluptuous like Ryoko's. However, her gait and bearing were shared with Nagi, particularly the cool blue glare she gave them both upon their meeting.

Yet, the green marks along her face and neck, as well as the blue sclera, signaled who he was actually meeting. Within the Ryoan body was the power and mind which gave the people of Ryua their great abilities, Tokimi. From all the evidence he has seen, this godlike entity has been the impetus behind all the recent turmoil in their lives: Kagato, Kain, Liaens, and perhaps others.

After the goddess's defeat in Manhattan, Ryoshu's body was recovered without damage from the remnants of Tokimi's masked attire. While Nagi was silent on the matter, Ryoko asked Katsuhito that their mother be laid to rest here on Earth, hidden away from "that bitch". Understandingly, he accommodated her request. Since then, Tenchi had worked to divorce Tokimi's twisted voice from the image of his girlfriend's mother.

"How was your talk?" he asked kindly.

"One-sided, as usual," Ryoko quipped back. "She never really liked hearing my stories."

The young prince watched a distant warmness flicker into her eyes as her mind drifted into nostalgia. He smiled softly and kissed her lips ever so lightly.

"Why's that?"

With a smile, she scoffed, "Because I'd tell her about how I beat up the boys in the guild. Would your mom like hearing how you whipped all the neighborhood kids with your sword?"

Wryly, he nodded. "Okay, I could see that, though why did you tell her that you beat up your sister?"

Her palm cupped his cheek and lightly patted it while she answered, "I think she'd like to know that we did it as peacefully as we did." She paused, leaning her lips closer to his. "And," she whispered, "I think she'd like to know that Sis is going out with one of the first knights of Jurai," before kissing him again.

He reciprocated her affections, drawing her close against him as the sun rays began to vanish from the horizon. Carefully, he broke the kiss and motioned back to the house.

"Why don't we head home? It's really starting to get late."

"Fine," she retorted, "if you insist."

Stealing another kiss, she slipped from his arms and took his hand before the pair bowed respectfully to the gravestone. As the sounds of night began to surround them in the dying light, Ryoko nudged closer, spurring Tenchi to wrap his arm around her shoulders. At that moment, he realized that he had left Ryoko's bracelet, Nagi's hairband, and both cloaks back at the shrine.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized, stopping in mid-stride. "I completely forgot both your stuff and Nagi's at Grandpa's."

She hesitated for a moment before she waved the topic aside, answering, "I don't really want to deal with the old man tonight."

With a nod, the couple continued into the growing darkness, the late autumn chill closing around them both. Gently, her arms snaked around him while he glanced down at her, their eyes meeting. The moonlight above glimmered off her irises, causing them to illuminate in his shadow. He slowed his gait to kiss her forehead lightly.

"Like a little lost kitty," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes and slapped his chest softly. "'Lost kitty', my ass!"

Tenchi chuckled and sighed hard, melting into her as she did into him. Over the next few steps, his gaze grew distant with thought before he whispered, "Do you think she'd approve of me?"

Ryoko furrowed her brows. "Who? _Nagi_? Who cares what _she_ thinks?" she replied flippantly.

"No," the prince stated, "your mother, the _real_ her."

Stunned, her golden gaze lowered to the ground while he continued, "It's like with my mom. I lost her when I was very young and never really knew her." Nostalgia filled his eyes as he smiled thoughtfully. "Traveling back to 1970, I saw a side of her I never knew, or at least never remembered."

The memories of the former pirate drifted back to their jaunt into history, how she and Ayeka infiltrated Achika's house under the guise of transfer students. The raven-haired girl was vibrant, coyly flirtatious, not at all what she expected from Katsuhito's daughter. Still, she saw some of Tenchi's strength peeking through her, particularly when her power awoke so briefly.

Sadly, the cyan-maned woman envied her boyfriend's memories of his mother. When Ryoko now recalled her mother's image, the beautiful face was marred by leaflike markings tracing down her cheeks and neck. She remembered how the hands which carried her as a child commanded dark lashes that burned her beloved and her sister. The eyes which protectively watched over her scowled disapprovingly, even spitefully, at both siblings. That desecration of her mother's form still churned hatefully in Ryoko's heart.

She clutched Tenchi a bit closer as she whispered softly, "Mom would love you, Tenchi."

"Why's that?" he whispered back.

"Because you did what she kept trying to do," she answered, glancing back up to him, "get me out of the guilds."

His eyes met hers. "Can you tell me about her?"

"Mom…" the former pirate began, "she could be so wildly different at times." She motioned to the left with her head. "When everything was going right, she was very kind." She scoffed with a slight smile, "She volunteered to teach the other guild kids literature with me. She'd also bandage up all the boys' scrapes from… well, being boys…"

Ryoko then motioned to the right. "But, when someone pissed her off, she could be a cast-iron _bitch_." She laughed to herself, "There was this one time when a couple guys and I were out pinching purses. We each took turns being the lookout while the others snatched the coin pouches or card-folds of our marks. I swear, when Mom found out, she nearly tanned all our hides!"

Tenchi smiled warmly listening to her story, hearing about Ryoko's past, as well as her mother's. His arm kept her close as she shook her head and continued, "Now, she was pretty lenient on kids. If you wanted to see her explode, you should've seen her argue with the pirates. Over and over, the guild leaders kept badgering her to work with them, especially with me already apprenticing." Her eyes closed with a wide smile. "If you think that _I_ have a filthy mouth, you should have seen _her_ rattle off curses in Juraian, as well as old Ryoan and a couple other languages I don't know. Her hands would grip so tight and spark real bright when she was ready to go off."

Kissing atop his beloved's head, the prince commented, "She sounds like you."

Blushing, she lightly slapped the back of his head. "I'm _not_ some school teacher, Tenchi!"

Chuckling, he braced his head playfully and added, "Okay, okay."

Soon, the Masaki estate stood before them shrouded in the shadowy dusk. Lights from the windows illuminated their passage toward the door, sharp contrasts falling over the couple.

Softly, the young man asked, "You miss her, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," her response came, honestly. "I loved…"

_I'm not your daughter!_ her memory screamed out. _I certainly hate your ass!_

In that moment, the shadows configured as they did when Tokimi first appeared in the NVO distortion, a colonnade corridor of darkness. The image of her mother, tough with a good soul, blinked back to the face used by the goddess, cold with vicious intent. The happy memories blurred with the twisted ones.

Ryoko stopped on the threshold of the house. Within her, the feelings of affection for her mother and hate for the dark goddess wrung taut in her heart. The conflict between those two visages and the words she said to each brought a shame to her eyes, despite what her intellect told her.

"Tenchi, my mother, the woman who _raised_ me…" Ryoko began, turning to Tenchi, raising her eyes to his, "she _was_ my family before Ryo-Ohki, before I came to Earth and met you and everyone else here." She looked aside, her brows glowering. "Sure, others in the guild _acted _like, or _tried_ to be, a family, but it wasn't _real_." Then, her hands slid up her shoulders, pulling her arms close and tight against her body, her voice wavering with stronger filial emotions of spite and disgust. "And _then_, to have _that bitch_… _wear_ her face like a…!"

A scowl etched itself into her face, and tears appeared at the corners of her eyes, real tears. Sympathy twisted into his heart watching her react to his question, and he placed himself in her position: if someone tried to take his mother's place, to corrupt her memory. No doubt, he would feel just as wronged, just as dirtied.

Then, he remembered it was his question that sent her down this path. He hung his head somberly and wrapped his arms around her, tight and warm against the night's chill.

"I didn't mean…" he began.

"I know you didn't," she interrupted, snaking her arms around him and pulling close to him.

In that moment, he kissed her forehead gently, apologetically, and she replied by kissing his neck, her hands raising along the back of his neck, urging him closer. His eyes opened briefly and met hers, feeling drawn into her passionate emotions as he lowered his lips to hers. The night fell silent to them, only the breath and touch of the other filling their immediate concerns for the next few minutes.

Yet, when they broke the kiss, the chill nipped at them again, despite the heavy beating of their hearts and the warmth of each other's breath and touch. In silence, Tenchi opened the door for his beau to enter, whereupon he wrapped his arm around her again and escorted her up the stairs to her room. There, she cracked the door open as he stood aside, steadying his heart to leave for the evening.

Then, her hand clasped his wrist, her golden eyes staring deep into his. Her gaze still held its fiery luster, but seemed darker, keener. Her grip was tighter, insistent. He could feel her arm shake slightly, wanting to pull him to her once more.

"Stay with me," she whispered, deeper in tone, heated in quality.

_Loneliness_, he heard ringing in his mind. Most of her life, she had been alone. When she had genuine affection, like her mother or Nagi's father, it was torn away from her. Now, she had found warmth in him, for her, and she wanted to keep it nearby, always.

Tenchi yielded himself to her, stepping forward into her embrace, and the door closed quietly after him.


End file.
